


He Hung the Moon and Painted in the Stars

by BlueMonkey, ThornyHedge



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse of Hobbit characters and places, Alternate Universe - Historical, Art, Class Differences, M/M, Portraits, Renaissance Era, Sibling Incest, coup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 116,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMonkey/pseuds/BlueMonkey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge/pseuds/ThornyHedge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili is a poor painter who's moved to the city to spend some time with his uncle. Kili is the son of The Master, a wealthy landowner who is used to getting everything he wants. Brought together by chance, their lives intertwine in ways neither of them expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Market

**Author's Note:**

> Off we go, friends! We've been dying to write and start posting this story since the spark germinated back in October. We hope you enjoy our foray into feudal days gone by.
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -

Cold were the timber planks under his feet. Or cold they would be, if Kili were wearing commoner's shoes. His fashionable men's heels clacked on the wooden floor, then moved to a stony _tap, tap, tap _—fast and yet slow enough to not appear in a hurry. He didn't need to say anything to the guards outside the palace's master bedroom for them to let him through. One did warn him that his father was just waking up, and perhaps the young heir would consider returning at a different time? That was not going to happen.__

__Kili grinned in what ought to be a kind manner, but which immediately had the guard stepping back and bowing his head in shame. "Forgive me, sir." And well he should ask for it. Kili raised his chin and brushed past him without offering him the pardon._ _

__"Dad!" he called out as soon as the doors were shut. "Dad, you're late!"_ _

__" _Father_ ," hissed his father's personal lackey before his own father could. He stood in front of the enormous four-poster bed, lavishly decorated and stood opposite a towering portrait of Kili's father, the Duke. The life-size version, three times smaller than the portrait at least and far less impressive without his many layers of wealth and esteem, sat at the edge of his large bed, slipping into his morning robes, and scowled at him._ _

__"Father indeed. How many times must I tell you? What are our people supposed to think when you address me like a commoner?"_ _

__"Oh, Dad. What do I care what they think? Is it not my privilege?"_ _

__"Just because it's your privilege to one day inherit my title does not mean you can treat your father without a grain of respect."_ _

__Kili sighed with a flourish. " _Father_ ," he indulged him, "you're still late. You promised to take me to the markets today."_ _

__"Right, right. Your name day. But don't take all day! I've got important matters to attend to."_ _

__"More important than my name day?"_ _

__The Duke coughed a laugh. "Matters of state, Kili. It's about time you took an interest."_ _

__Kili's father used to be an impressive man. Given a title after his great deeds in battle, the people in his duchy had come to love him for his interest in their plight. But throughout the years his body had sagged and gained weight, his hair had gone a flat, lifeless ginger and all of the splendor that was once the Duke's charm had left him, followed by his generosity, leaving behind a man who had little love left from the people, and who instead thrived on politics and greed to keep his title intact._ _

__They called him the Master but, if they didn't face punishment for it, they would mock him behind his back. Kili despised those people. His father had done great things for them indeed, and this was how they repaid him._ _

__"Perhaps in a few years."_ _

__"Hah. Perhaps in a few years, he says. _Perhaps in a few years._ Now, my son, is when you should be starting, instead of spending every night in the taverns. Don't think I haven't heard the tales."_ _

__Kili walked to the tall window and looked out over the city. "At least I'm among the people."_ _

__"At least you're in drunken brawls and other people's beds."_ _

__"At least I'm not getting anyone with child." Everyone knew that Kili favored men more than he did the women. It was convenient, Kili would defend his choice, to which his father had no choice but adhere but always mutter what would become of them when the time came when his son needed an heir of his own and had to get down to producing one with a lady._ _

__The Duke coughed. He slipped into his shoes and waited for his lackey to tie the laces, after which he got to his feet and stretched. "Well, come on then, we haven't got all day."__

 _ _\- - - - -__

 _ _The early market bustled with tradesmen of all types. Fishmongers shouted the loudest, while blacksmiths' apprentices had stalled out fine weaponry of their masters that was, by law, blunted to only be suitable as a piece on a wall._ _

__Kili let his eyes go over a dagger or two. They didn't meet his fancy quite enough for him to pause in his steps. There was to be a ball for his birthday in three days' time, the day that he came of age, but he still demanded the best gift the market would have to offer. The daggers were nice, yet they lacked something that would make them truly valuable._ _

__His eyes were drawn to an older man behind the next stall—the only smith who was without apprentice and thus had to man the stall himself. Black wavy hair was tied back in a tail and strong arms polished the edge of an intricately adorned blade. It was almost beautiful enough to buy. But what kind of smith didn't have an apprentice? Certainly a poor one. Kili didn't want his birthday present to come from a poor smith. He passed him by without a further glance, his eyes on the rich fabrics hanging in the next stall._ _

__A man brushed him by. The Master at once moved to make the man come back, apologize and kiss their feet for his disrespect. Kili held him back. His father always made him feel ashamed to be his son in public. He didn't know how to laugh with the people—he only demanded or punished, as if those were truly the only two options available to him._ _

__As he did so, he caught sight of the man who had brushed by him. The man had stopped in front of a small stand with painting equipment as he haggled over a few bottles, entirely unaware. He paid for them in coin, put the netted bottles in his bag, and walked back from whence he had come. Kili didn't understand why, but there was something that made him unable to turn away._ _

__It bothered him, until he reasoned with himself that the unfamiliar painter did look quite handsome in a vagabond kind of way._ _

__That's when he knew._ _

__"A portrait," he declared to his father. "I want a portrait for my present."__

 _ _\- - - - -__

 _ _Unaware that he was being studied, Fili continued along the row of vendors, headed the opposite direction. When he caught sight of the blacksmith Kili had passed earlier, he raised his hand in greeting and entered the man's stall._ _

__"Uncle," he greeted Thorin warmly. "Can I help you with anything? I have no commissions today."_ _

__"Fili," Thorin smiled and patted his shoulder. "I'm afraid I have no commissions at the moment, either. For a moment I thought the Young Master was going to grant me the honor of buying from me, but alas." It was good to see his nephew. They hadn't seen each other for a long time until the beginning of this week, when Fili had shown up at his doorstep with a letter from his mother, asking if he could stay with him for a while. Though Fili was staying under his roof, Thorin was in the workshop most of the time and they often missed each other. "Have you found a patron already?" From the corner of his eyes, he was aware that in the distance, the Master and his son had stopped and were looking in their direction. Thorin straightened up and nodded._ _

__"Not yet, I'm afraid," Fili lowered his eyes sadly. He felt dreadful, showing up on his seldom-seen uncle's doorstep and unable to truly support himself. "Thorin, surely there must be something I can do to earn my keep." He turned in the direction where Thorin's eyes were fixed. "Who are those people?"_ _

__Apprenticeship, Thorin knew, would be too hard on the lad. It took a man who knew from an early age on that he wanted to become a smith to make an apprentice, and while Fili had the physique to build up the strength if he truly committed himself to it, he had chosen oils and canvas as his trade. Perhaps he could design some patterns for the hilts. "Those," and he bowed his head lower, encouraging Fili to do the same, "are the owner of the land and his son. Be respectful to them." He added in a whisper, "They'll see you in jail if you don't."_ _

__The Master and Kili walked closer—Kili with giddiness and his father with suspicion. "This man, you say?" he asked Kili. "You've seen naught of his work. How can you be sure he will deliver you a portrait worthy of you?" While they were still outside hearing range, he added, "This isn't about his expertise with paint, is it? Kili, son, if this is only because you want to bed him..."_ _

__"Well, at least let him show his work!" Kili hissed through clenched teeth. Trust his dad to make him look like a fool, even if he was partly right. "If he does a poor job, we can always choose another. But I _want_ a portrait."_ _

__Fili bowed his head respectfully as his uncle had suggested, although internally he was struggling. The pair coming towards them were clearly wealthy—it was evident in their clothing, their faces and sturdy bodies. And yet, there was a haughtiness, a sense of self-importance about them that Fili found repulsive._ _

__In the village where he'd lived these many years with his dear mother, everyone lived at the same level, dependent on the trades and successes of their friends and neighbors for their survival. But these two! Well, it was evident they had never known what it was like to be hungry, or cold...or humble. He vowed to let his uncle do the talking, lest his contempt spill over his lips._ _

__The Duke stopped in front of them and studied them for a while. He laughed—a humbling laugh for anyone subjected to it, for it was rife with superiority—and looked at Fili as he addressed the smith. "Not from around here, is he? Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy. You're a painter, are you not?"_ _

__Fili raised his head and looked the fat landowner in the eye. "Yes," he struggled for a title to give to this man, "your lordship. Still lives and portraits." He didn't want to embarrass his uncle._ _

__"Ah, see," the Master folded his hands before him contently, not in the slightest interested in the smith, "not a mute after all." His son groaned. "Tell me, whom have you done portraits for? Anyone I know? Bluntly put," he leaned forward, "are you any good?"_ _

__"I have only recently come to this place," Fili told him. "The people I have painted were from my village in the Blue Mountains. No one of consequence, I'm afraid."_ _

__Fili opened the satchel he was carrying and pulled out a well-worn leather tome. He opened it and showed a sketch of an old woman carrying a jug under each arm. "This is Varina. She is a washer woman from my village. This," he turned the page and showed a more intricate drawing of what was obviously Thorin, "is my good friend and master. I work for him at times when I am without patron. I drew this when he fell asleep in front of a warm fire at the end of a long day."_ _

__"Mh." Stroking his beard, the Master perused over the drawings. They weren't bad, though they lacked the flair that his son needed. No elaborate backgrounds, no details like pearls and lemming coats. They were sketches, not even oil paintings. But if his son wanted a portrait for his name day and that'd be all, then it was an easy victory. The Master did not like to spend a lot of time on his son's latest fancies. They were whimsical at best. But he was sure that this painter would not outdo his own portraitist and Kili's portrait would not make his own pale in comparison. He turned to his son. "What do you think?"_ _

__Kili took the portfolio without anyone's consent. "The Blue Mountains," he wondered as he traced the lines of the graphite, smudging the sketch slightly. "Well, I don't doubt you've had little challenge if you say you're from that dreary place. But I like it. Yes, _Father_ , I want this one."_ _

__Fili could tell the Master had been displeased. "I can use any medium you wish. When commissioned to use finer paints, I can turn out a much more refined product." He flipped yet another page to reveal a colored painting of a beautiful dark-haired woman with sapphire blue eyes. She was seated at a loom, outdoors in front of a thatched cottage._ _

__"My mother," he told the Masters._ _

__It was a remarkable portrait, and for once Kili did not feel like insulting the lady for her simple surroundings. She had the look of a lion, fierce and yet protective. The Master had already stopped looking at the folder for lack of interest and didn't see the drawing. Kili flipped the portfolio shut and handed it back to Fili. "It's decided. This one. When can I sit for you?"_ _

__The Master spluttered at his son's fast decision that bypassed his opinion entirely. "Kili, son," he reprimanded him, "business first." He turned to Fili. "How much do you ask? Will three gold pieces work?" It was more than any commoner made in three months, but it was meager compared to the wealth that surrounded the Master and his single heir._ _

__"Three gold pieces!" Kili exclaimed at that. "Is my name day worth so little? You will give him ten at least, father, or I'll pick out a more expensive artist who won't say yes until you’ve match twice that price."_ _

__"Lordship," Thorin stepped forward at last, "you will not regret your decision to employ my apprentice, for he truly has a gift. It is only natural that you should want your son's image to be perfectly and painstakingly captured in permanent form. If I'm not mistaken, his name day is fast approaching," he smiled at Kili, revealing the same blue eyes as the woman in the painting._ _

__"Good paints and canvas do not come cheaply," Thorin told them both. "Fili would require at least two gold pieces, up front, to purchase the materials necessary for the job. Another ten on completion. You will have a portrait whose beauty will, I fear, outlast us all."_ _

__Kili saw the resemblance now. This man was the lady's brother. His father must have missed it. Well, it mattered not. He soon grew bored when they talked about coin, but he was excited about the portrait that was to be made of him. Kili hoped it would be better than his father's—though he was careful not to voice that, as his father was vain enough as it was. "You'll be coming into the palace regularly for my painting, won't you?" he wondered. "Can you come soon? There's a ball in my name this weekend. It would be splendid if it were finished."_ _

__The Master snorted. "You must forgive my foolish son," he offered Thorin, not because he was truly begging a lowly smith's forgiveness but because he needed to humble his son. "He has never sat for a portrait before. I'm sure we can make it so it'll be done by the end of the month, won't we?" That was still twenty days, which would make it tight, but doable if they both focused on little else._ _

__"Not before the ball?" Kili asked, disappointed. "Well, in that case, I don't mind if it takes two more months." He looked the painter over once. Two months wouldn't be a hardship. He all but licked his lips, until his father coughed and hissed, "Kili."_ _

__"It _is_ strenuous work, posing," Fili was quick to tell the pair. "A month is a reasonable expectation, it's true," he deferred to the Master. "It will all depend on your son's availability, his patience and stamina," Fili met Kili's dark eyes. This foppish prince seemed to be the type to always get what he wanted, and instantly. Fili could barely hide his contempt. _ _

__Twelve gold pieces was a tidy sum._ _

__"There's nothing wrong with my stamina," Kili huffed like he was looking for a fight. This man truly had to be new in town. He had momentarily considered going easy on this pleasing-on-the-eye, new plaything in his life, but he soon discarded the thought. "You will report at the Manor door at ten in the morning and I will sit for you. We'll see who is patient. Come, Father." And he whirled around haughtily, with more bruised pride that he tried to mask up than anything._ _

__How dare this pretty little thing doubt his ability to sit for a portrait? How difficult could it be?_ _

__"Have we struck a deal then?" Thorin asked of the Master, who nodded and handed over two gold coins._ _

__Fili's eyes followed his soon-to-be-subject as he huffed off down the street. He couldn't help smile._ _

__Thorin cleared his throat after the two Masters were out of hearing range. He looked at his nephew, smiling even after he’d nearly gotten into trouble with the authorities, and wondered how long it would be before the other shoe dropped. "Please tell me it's the money you're smiling about and not that the first patron you land here is the one you need to be most careful about."_ _

__Fili chuckled, accepting the coins from his uncle. He found he liked the weight of them on his palm._ _

__"I'm smiling because I'm looking forward to painting with fine oils again," Fili turned to him. "That, and the fact that I'm certain that lazy, spoiled Master's son won't last through more than two hours of sitting tomorrow."_ _

__Thorin grasped him by the shoulders and looked at him with concern. "Listen, Fili," he said, "I want you to listen to what I say next. Do not tempt that boy. Do not challenge him in any way. If his father is not bad news enough, then it certainly is him. You are new here, and I owe it to your mother to make sure you are safe. Terrible things happen to those who scorn him, but worse things...worse things happen to those he ends up liking, do you understand? Remain neutral at all times."_ _

__If Thorin could help it, he would have never allowed Fili into the city, but his mother had said he had been adamant, and he had not seen the harm in a few months to steel him in the real world._ _

__"Uncle," Fili felt fear curling up in his belly like a snake about to strike, "should I turn down the commission? I don't want to put any of us in danger. Another job will come along. They always do."_ _

__Truth be told, he was quite interested in seeing the inside of the Master's fine home, and to talking with that petulant young man again._ _

__"You can't now," Thorin bemoaned that truth. "If you say no now, you'll certainly end up in his bad graces. And I have to say, many a painter would have wished they were asked instead. Do this right, Fili, and you'll have a good future ahead of you. Just tread carefully."_ _

__A smile then spread across Fili's face. "I have done a good thing, then? Catching the Master's eye? Oh, perhaps now you and mother won't have to work so very hard. Perhaps her poor fingers can take some rest from time to time. I want nothing more than for her comfort, Thorin, and yours," he clasped his uncle's shoulder. "Goodness, what should I wear?" he looked down at his clothing—the same clothing he invariably wore each day. "He'll take great amusement in my limited wardrobe, I imagine." Fili looked up at his uncle, forehead furrowed. "What else aren't you telling me about this Young Master?"_ _

__Thorin focused on reordering the few daggers spread out before him. "Aside from the fact that he's vain and fickle, and has no regard for anything or anyone? He speaks up even to his own father, the Master. That boy has no respect for anything." He shielded his eyes in order not to let Fili see the bitterness that those words truly contained. It would have been so much better if Fili had never come here. But he had, and now they had to make the best of it, for their own good. "Let's see if we can match you up with something decent tomorrow, yes? I've got a friend who might be able to help, as long as you return it undamaged by the end of the day."_ _

__"I'm not sure I want to set that type of precedent," Fili murmured, biting his lip, "showing up looking grand. Besides, I'll be painting. I'm expected to look a bit of a mess, aren't I? Oh, Uncle," he beamed, "this truly is exciting. I shall have to walk deeper into the city and restock my paint box," he glowed like a small boy. "I wish Mother were here."_ _

__Thorin longed to fondly tousle his nephew's hair. He had grown up so fast. It seemed only yesterday that he was seven, running around with a wooden sword and declaring he was going to be a knight when he grew up. Not long after, he’d turned to painting, and his world had been filled with medium and pigment. "Help me until noon," he said. "I will walk with you when you go out for paint, and when we're done, we will send her a letter with the news."_ _

__"That's exactly what I was hoping you would say," Fili grinned, putting his portfolio back into his satchel and stowing it safely away in the corner of Thorin's stall. He rolled up his sleeves._ _

__Still, he couldn't stop thinking about the flecks of gold in the Young Master's snapping brown eyes._ _


	2. Ori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Ori, Kili's personal attendant. When Fili shows up at the Manor to begin painting Kili's portrait, he gets a pleasant surprise.

_I swear, he finds the mud on purpose,_ Ori groaned to himself as the Young Master finally took off his shoes after tracking mud through the foyer he'd had scrubbed only an hour before.

The fine shoes and the marble tiles would take hours to clean properly. Not that Kili would know.

"Master tells me you’ll have a portrait begun tomorrow," he said instead, leaning down to retrieve the shoes. "You are truly coming of age, Kili."

"I've been of age for years now," Kili answered from where he lay upon his bed, feet splayed and his heavy cloak removed. He wriggled his toes and looked up at the ceiling of his beautifully woodcut bed. The ceiling board was the only surface not covered in interlacing weaves, knots and motifs. It was a pleasant void, he thought, and Ori's company complimented that nicely. He was the only attendant he could just be normal to and who wouldn't go out and tell everyone. Being normal was considered a weakness for a man of Kili's bearing. "A portrait though. I've never given it much thought until this morning. I suppose the painter looking utterly ravishing had something to do with it at first, but the more I think about it, the more the idea pleases me. Imagine that, my likeness on the wall next to my father's. He'll be green with envy, for I will be ten years younger than he was when he was made eternal. Tell me, how is your mother lately?"

"Mother fares well, or so her letters say," Ori told him, hanging Kili's cloak up its assigned peg. "She is blessed with fine health." He cleared his throat. "So, this painter. A bit of a dish, eh? I knew you had to have some sort of ulterior motive. You'd go insane sitting for him otherwise."

Kili sat up. "Why does everyone keep telling me that?" He tilted his head and observed his personal attendant closely. "Tell me, what do you know about painting? How long does one usually sit for a portrait? Dad mentioned several sessions, but several can be anything." A mischievous smile graced his eyes and pushed down to his nose and his mouth, which curved up like they were up to no good. "I don't think I'd mind stretching the time. He _is_ a dish. I wonder how long it'll take."

"Well," Ori sat down on the chair next to Kili's bed, "when your father sat for that Salini fellow, it took nearly a month. He sat nearly every weekday afternoon and did his business in the mornings." Ori did some math in his head. "I suppose 75 hours would be a good estimate. But I'm sure he was allowed to move a bit, and not sit entirely still as a statue. Are you telling me you chose this artist based entirely upon his good looks?"

"Every weekday afternoon?" Kili was starting to grow pale. "For nearly a month? That's to say, nothing else but painting? Are you sure?" No wonder his father had looked so smug when he offered the painter the money for expenses. Kili didn't realize until then that he had not asked for the painter's name.

He had willingly offered up all of his mornings for the upcoming month for this fellow, and what if he turned out to be terrible? Or worse, boring?

"Oh, Ori, you'll stick around and talk to me while I sit, won't you? I'll pay you extra for it." Or rather, he would have his father pay him extra for it.

"If this painter's as lovely as you claim, just the opportunity to gaze at him as he works will be recompense enough," Ori chuckled. "You do realize that when sitting for a portrait, the subject doesn't spend nearly as much time looking at the artist as the artist will spend looking at him. He clearly must have made an impression."

"Oh, I'll make sure he watches. They all watch eventually if I want them to." Kili looked up at the ceiling board again and let the subject slide, at least in Ori's company. His only true friend tended to be uncomfortable around the mention of Kili and whomever he'd had tangled between the sheets. Kili suspected it had something to do with Ori pining after someone whose name he refused to give. If only he did give it to him. Kili would make sure it happened. "Come tomorrow, I think you two will get along. Really, more than seventy hours?"

"Think of it as a rite of passage," Ori smiled. "Your name day is upon you. You'll have a portrait, and soon you'll be Master. What fortune, Kili. Were that I was born with such fortune." He chuckled. "Not that the fortune of knowing you isn't sufficient, of course."

Kili chuckled. "Ori, don't. I'm glad enough there's at least someone decent in this household," by which he referred to his dad and his mad court of groveling noblemen, not to himself, "so don't talk to me like you're another one of dad's people."

But he soon grew quieter. Kili did not want to be the Master. He loved his life as it was right now, but the politics and the concerns of the people...he'd rather not be laden with a weight that heavy. Kili was no leader. All he knew was how to demand. And oh, he knew that well, but he doubted he wanted to be making the big demands and the important decisions, instead of simple matters like what wine to stock the cellars with. "Perhaps I should have taken the daggers. They did look nice. Such a pitiful blacksmith though, not to have an apprentice to run the market stall."

"Are you speaking of that handsome, sturdy smith? The one with shockingly blue eyes, his dark hair shot with streaks of silver?" Ori put a hand over his heart. "Goodness, the wild ideas he gives me!"

Kili opened his eyes and watched his friend in amusement. "You, Ori? I thought you didn't care so much about men." Well, not in the way Kili did, though he had to admit he'd seen Ori ogling one of the palace guards more than once. And then there were those emissaries from the city in the woods at the end of the river that always got him talking. But the blacksmith was a first. "I suppose he's good looking enough. He just seems a bit...dull, don't you think? Hardly the man to surprise you with any kinks in his wire, if you know what I mean."

"Those are precisely the ones who _would_ surprise you," Ori smiled with a modest blush. "Those arms of his...especially when he's perspiring...what can I say?" he shrugged guiltily, "I tend to see the beauty in everyday things. There's nothing wrong with having a healthy fantasy life, is there? It's safer than the real thing."

"But the real thing is much more fun," Kili pointed out. "Have you never tried?"

Ori was suddenly very interested in the tiled flooring. "Not entirely, no," he murmured. "It all seems so...messy."

Kili laughed and shook his head. "That's part of the fun. And besides, you can take a bath afterwards. Oh, Ori. I would have made sure you got a round with the blacksmith if you wanted to have him truly." He dangled his legs off the bed. "Are you waiting for the One? Or are you really not interested?"

"M-my life is rather full, you see," Ori stammered, "what with minding you and all. And yes, I suppose you're right. I _do_ want it to be special. For now, I'm more than content with using my own hand, in the dark."

Kili shrugged. "I'd give you a day off for it. You've never even had someone's mouth there? At your age? But you've kissed someone before, right?" Kili pitied his friend.

"Master Kili," Ori said softly, using the title he usually reserved for when they were with more revered company, "I beg you...I don't wish to speak on this matter any further. I would just tell you that, as a younger man—no more than a boy, really—I had a very traumatic experience, and it left me," he whispered so softly that Kili could barely hear him, " _less than whole._ "

The Master's son did shut up after that. The news was unexpectedly sobering. Sweet Ori, who implied someone had taken something from him against his will. Kili swore without a word to his friend that if he found the man responsible, he would make him pay.

"I've got calligraphy from that dreadful Master Elrond in the afternoon," he changed the subject while at the same time opening the windows to let the fresh air into his chambers, something which hadn't seemed so necessary until it did. "He keeps trying to make me a master writer. Worse, he's convinced of it. Dad thinks it's wonderful I excel at something that isn't war training. I'm not a monk, you know. Having to keep writing the same laws of the city in different strokes and curls is killing me softly."  


Ori, uncharacteristically, did not seem to hear a word Kili had said to him. His mind had flown back in time to that first day he'd been brought to the Master's house, escorted by his older brothers to serve as the personal attendant to the Young Master, then only eight years old himself. Ori had only been a lad of ten when he was given a strongly-drugged fruit drink, and time for it to take effect, before he was held down and his still tiny testicles cut off by the court physician.

Only a eunuch, The Master claimed, could be trusted with his son's personal safety—wouldn't be tempted to run away or dally with the other servants. While Ori recovered for a week or so in the physician's quarters, he was tutored as to what his new responsibilities would entail. Shortly after, he began to serve as the Young Master's sole servant.

At first, they were playmates. Ori, despite the pain of his healing surgery, felt like the luckiest little boy in the world. He had as much as he cared to eat at each meal, a warm bed, and a friend. His only friend. 

"—'ll insist on a majuscule, of course. Ori. You haven't heard a word I said, have you?"

Sad eyes met with Ori's. Kili took a long, deep breath. "Stop cleaning for a minute. Just join me, grab a piece of cheese from the tray if you like and just sit with me." He dragged the bench on which he sat on front of the large opened stained glass windows that looked out over the center of the city. A beautiful chilly spring morning, with the rich in the world waking up before them and the poor already having made half a day. "Some day," said Kili quietly, "I'm expected to rule this. I care not for politics and I have no taste for a wife that I need to get with child. But I will. Life has given me a set future. One day, father will decide that my days of fun are over. I mean to enjoy everything life has to offer before that time. You must think the many men in my bed make me incapable of pure love, finding the one person who is perfect for me. But you see, even if I find him, I will never have him the way you can. Cherish that, my friend. You've done so much for me. If there's a time that a favor from me will be able to bring you happiness, don't be afraid to ask it of me."

"Kili," Ori smiled softly, plucking a piece of soft white cheese and a grape from the tray offered to him, "you know that I will serve you until one of us dies. My life is given to you. I knew this. It was the first thing taught to me when I was old enough to understand. I will never have an heir. I will never have a lasting relationship with anyone. How could I ever come to know anyone as well as I know you?"

Ori popped the grape into his mouth and chased it with the cheese, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. "I do have pleasure. I take them where I can. Good food, good wine, a well-turned phrase, frost on the pumpkins on autumn mornings. I'm just as much a connoisseur as you."

Kili couldn't help it—he chuckled. "Did you just call me a connoisseur of men?" he asked impishly, before leaning over to kiss Ori on the nose. It was crossing the formal boundaries set in place between them by society, but Kili cared not for the sensibilities of his father's realm. Ori was his friend, who aspired nothing greater than just to be that friend, and he could tell that it was heartfelt, not just said because he was a lesser on the scale of the rich and influential opposite the commoners. "I cherish you by my side. Don't let anyone else know about that, lest they start expecting all sorts of foolish things for themselves. What do you think? Up for a visit to the bathhouse?"

And so it happened that when his father entered his son's solarium that afternoon, to tell him to come down for Master Elrond's classes, he found Kili barely returned with his hair wet and smelling of scented soaps, laughing about something Ori—equally prim—said, radiant like the sun and ignorant of any other duties.

\- - - - - 

It was cold on the pallet on the floor Thorin had given him to sleep on. In fact, Thorin's home was constantly cold, Fili noted. Thorin assured him that when summer came 'round it would be sweltering. Fili wished for some of that heat as he blew into his freezing hands. If only he had some carpentry skills, he'd purchase some mortar and fill in the cracks where the cold air drafted in. As it was, right now, the best he could do was add more kindling to the small fire in the fireplace, waiting for it to grow so he could add a log or two.

While Thorin slept the sleep of the hard-working, Fili pulled together a hot but meager breakfast of eggs and potatoes for them, and a pot of hot tea. He was just putting the meal on the table when Thorin came from the small bedroom, rubbing at an aching shoulder.

"Ah, up already," the smith groaned. He stretched and tried not to let Fili see how much his work demanded its toll on his body. "Big day today, isn't it? Goodness, it's hot in here." Sitting down at the small-sized table, put together from a slate of wood and some logs tied and constrained with metal bands to hold them together, his hands grasped his mug of tea nonetheless. "Have you got everything you need?"

"Thorin," Fili smiled, "you stand in front of a burning forge all day. This room is decidedly not hot." He took a sip of his tea. "I've got everything. I've checked my bag seven times. I'm terrified. Is this a mistake, Thorin? You'd tell me if I were making a mistake, right?"

Thorin clasped his shoulders and smiled. "You'll be fine. You're a son of your mother, you. Remember, be neutral. Think of it as a game. Try to never let him hold something over you. If he does, simply get something over him as well. Keep it a tie." That said, he dug into his food like a man starving—and perhaps he was. Daggers and short swords did not bring him a lot of wealth, and there were few enough patrons as it were. Nobody had use for a blunted blade, and the military had other suppliers.

\- - - - -

In the heart of the city, Kili was still waking up when a knock roused his attention. "Yes?" he called from the bed.

"Is this how I raised you, boy? Open the door for your father!"

Kili flew out of bed, threw on a robe, and pulled the door open for an unamused Master. "Apologies," he spluttered at once. "What brings you here on this early hour?"

"Your portrait is what brings me here," huffed his father. "Has he shown up yet? He starts in five minutes. And by God, why aren't you dressed properly yet? Where's that boy servant of yours? Must I do everything myself?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Master," Ori came rushing full-steam into the room, carrying Kili's clothing, carefully chosen for the day. "I was preparing the sitting room for the session." He lay the clothing primly out on Kili's bed. "I hope the selection meets with your approval, Master." His hand lingered over the fine, beige silk of the long outer coat.

" _Your_ approval?" Kili's head whipped around to his dad. "It's _my_ portrait. I would think I'm not going to be wearing that ghastly coat! It's last season's! What happened to the blue one? The one with the gold lining?"

"You listen to me, son," the Master cornered him swiftly, "since I'll be paying for the portrait, you're going to be wearing the house colors, and that's that. None of that blue. We have been over this before. Beige and red, that's going to be your choice."

"Then I might just as well wear my robes," Kili hissed back. "Beige looks dreadful on me."

The Master huffed, but he didn't deny it. "Red does not. Red, Kili, and that's final!"

All the while both men ignored Ori until he scraped his throat and, with a voice a tad too high and too shaky, said, "The painter is here."

The Master threw his hands up in despair. "Red! Get dressed. I will have him come in while you're in your undergarments if you're not fast about it!"

Ori smiled apologetically at Kili. "I happen to think that beige is your best color," he raised his eyebrows at Kili, "and it's even more becoming with red. It makes your eyes look huge. You should trust your father on this."

He held up a ruffled undershirt. "Let's not keep this handsome fellow waiting."

\- - - - - 

_Don't let them hold anything over you,_ Thorin's advice resonated in Fili's head as he looked around the spacious foyer of the Master's home. Thorin's modest cottage could have fit inside this room alone—twice.

He inclined his head when the Master approached him. "Lordship."

The Master was anything but amused. "Ah. Painter," he commanded. "Right this way." He turned in his heels with his chin up in the air, did not look back to see if the man who was still wearing the same clothing as the day before—such a horrid, horrid thing to do in front of royalty, and in front of _him_ on top of that—was following. Pushing past libraries containing a vast wealth of wisdom, and rarely used for it, then the kitchens and adjacent lavish dining rooms, Fili got a short bit of a tour before the Duke pushed open two towering double doors. "You had better be decent!" he proclaimed loudly, and tugged Fili inside.

Kili stood in the center of the room, caught in the early sunlight but with a thunderous mood, wearing beiges and reds while a young man flitted around him, making sure he looked impeccable.

Fili's eyes lingered on the books as he passed them by. Oh, to be set free in that room for a day! The opulence around him was dazzling, and at the same time, angered him. _I could feed an entire village for a year just by selling that golden dish on the dining room table,_ he thought to himself. His mouth watered at the sight of the apples and grapes, along with several unusual fruits he'd never even seen before.

When they reached the Young Master's quarters, the youth was standing in a patch of sunlight in front of a window, dressed in rich fabrics that offset his hair and eyes. He was such a handsome man that Fili stopped in his tracks for a moment. The youth was smiling at a redhead who was straightening his doublet, showing of a beautiful set of teeth. The smile encouraged Fili.

"Young Master," he inclined his head in Kili's direction. "Good morning."

"Sir painter," Kili nodded at him. He chuckled and tried to squirm away when Ori managed to poke him, unseen under all those layers of fabric, and ignored his father pointedly clearing his throat. "I didn't catch your name yesterday. Let it not be said I'm without manners," Kili's eyes challenged the Master's, "so please, come in, have a seat. We have much to discuss before we begin." 

By everything except by words he was trying to get his father out of the room, who at last relented and said to Ori, "Servant boy, you will not let him out of your sight today. Am I to be understood?"

"My name," Fili told him, "is Fili. Clearly our mothers liked the cadence." He smiled at the red-haired youth.

"All will be attended to, Master," the lad said. "He doesn't appear to be the sort to cause trouble," he returned the smile, and the Master retreated reluctantly. " _My_ name," he muttered, to no one in particular, "is Ori. You'd think he'd know that after thirteen years."

"He knows," Kili said as he looked outside, quite unintentionally creating an ethereal image, "he just can't be seen knowing the servants by name. But watch him when he thinks nobody's watching, and he calls his own personal servant by his name just the same. A hypocrite, that's what he is." He turned and smiled at Fili, already feeling better now that his meddling father was out of the way. "You're still not sitting down, Fili. Please do. There is food on the table. Take whatever you want for as long as you're here for the portrait." He tilted his head. "Ori? Could you ask the laundress to supply our guest with some temporary clothes while they clean what he wears now?"

Fili hitched in his breath and looked self-consciously down at what he was wearing. The clothes he was wearing _had_ been washed the evening before. He'd done it himself, and hung them up to dry by the fire. A lump formed in his throat when he realized that, next to Kili and his servant, he indeed looked very shabby.

With Thorin's warning echoing in his head, he inclined his head, "If it pleases you, Young Master." He felt like crying. Thorin had warned him. 

He didn't relish the idea of undressing in front of this arrogant young man.

Surprisingly, he didn't have to. Kili smiled at him like he was doing him a favor and turned while Ori escorted him to a different room, where he was given a set of clothes of supple leather and mustard colored highlights. Another man came in and took measurements of his feet. His old clothes were taken away into the laundry rooms and, some ten minutes later, he was returned to Kili's main quarters.

"Ah, there. I knew that would look good on you," Kili grinned. "You're an official court painter now. Wouldn't want anyone to think I hire the best and let them dress in rags, now would we? Nothing personal, of course. That's yours if you'll accept it. You could also not accept it," he reasoned, "but I'd still feel better if you wore that while you paint my picture. Stops people from talking, you see."

The soft leather felt enticing and sinful against Fili's skin, so used to rougher materials, yet the clothing was deceptively warm. It moved so easily and his fingers longed to touch it at his leisure.

"It was a kind gift, Young Master, er, Kili...I..." Fili stammered. "Please, how is it you would like me to address you?"

Kili shrugged. "Young Master is what you're supposed to call me, but if you call me Kili behind closed doors, then I'll call you Fili and we're done with formalities. Just," he winced, "never before my father. You'll find yourself on the street, or worse, in jail. Or before anyone outside, because people talk and it'll still come back to father." He grinned. "Lots of rules, my apologies." He made it to the nearest seat as well as he could, encumbered by the many layers, and sat down, proceeding to pop a grape between his lips. "Have you got any ideas for the painting yet?"

Fili's eyes longingly followed the Young Master's fingers back and forth to the tray, laden with luscious, fat grapes, cheese and bread. Never was there quite enough food in Thorin's home to truly slake Fili's hunger. His mouth began to water and his stomach let out a betraying growl.

He cleared his throat to try and cover it. "You looked very striking when I entered the room today, caught in that beam of the sun. We want to create an honest portrait that captures you in your element, Young Master. Not something so stodgy and posed, but something that will warm the hearts of those who look upon it. My job is to help you find your element."

Taking a bite from the apple in his hand, Kili looked him over critically. At long last he smiled, gesturing Ori to join them and have something as well. He wouldn't say it, but in their hurry this had more or less become a substitute breakfast for both him and Ori. "You know, you're not very conventional, are you? My father didn't push you to add this or that? Maybe a lily here, a crest there, me looking completely and utterly boring?" He tossed the apple over to Fili. "I like you. Well, I don't know what my element is. Ori, if you do, then help a man out. Otherwise, just let me know what to do."

Fili looked down at the bitten-into apple the Young Master had thrown to him like scraps to a dog—the marks of his perfect teeth stood out prominently. Why would he have done that, if not to shame him?

"Thank you, Kili," the blond tested the name on his tongue. "The Master didn't tell me what to do...other than not steal anything, which I hadn't planned on." 

He smiled when Ori chuckled. Fili couldn't help but feel he recognized Ori from somewhere. "I must ask—Ori is it?—did you spend your childhood in the Blue Mountains? I feel as if I know you from then." Fili had played with a small boy with red hair when he was young. One day, the boy had mysteriously disappeared with not a word as to where.

Kili, though, was disappointed Fili didn't take up the challenge. Either he wasn't interested, or he truly did not know how the game with the apple was played. He seemed interested enough in his servant though. Kili bit the inside of his cheek. It would not do to let that put a damper on his mood. So he picked up a small morsel of soft cheese and ate it, licking his fingers leisurely afterwards and seeing if that elicited a response.

Ori however looked at their guest quizzically and increasingly eagerly. "I have two brothers in the Blue Mountains," he said. "I spent a lot of time there, before I was brought into the Master's household. Nori and Dori, have you heard of them? Fare they well?"

Fili, suddenly overcome with emotion, clapped a hand over his mouth in disbelief. "It's _you,_ " he said in a hushed tone. "After all these years. No one would answer my questions about you. No one would speak of you. I began to convince myself that I'd _imagined_ you." With the Young Master practically forgotten, Fili walked closer to Ori. 

"Do you remember playing in those rocky, moss-covered ruins? The ones that looked like a sleeping giant?"

"That was you?" Ori gasped. "That blond boy? The one who jumped on everything and waved about his wooden sword, you're saying that was you? Yes, I remember! You kept dragging me there! It was your favorite place in the whole wide world. I didn't think I'd see you again. Now look at you, you're a court painter!"

Fili chuckled. "Aye, that was me. Back then, of course, I wanted to be a knight when I grew up. But Ori...I became an artist because of _you._ Back then, anytime you could get your hands on some paper and a stick of charcoal, you were always drawing. And you were quite good at it. I always marveled. And then, you were gone—just like that. I started drawing after you left and never stopped. I have you to thank for this. And all this time, you've been here? Do you still draw?" 

Practically forgetting Kili was in the room, Fili took Ori's hand and pulled him to a nearby davenport where they could sit and talk.


	3. Beige, Red, Yellow and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili, during his first day of his commission at the Master's house, manages to put his foot in his mouth--several times.

Kili sat, surprised at the disinterest that Fili showed him. If he considered all things rationally, then it would be unfair to Ori to first offer him anything that would make him happy, and then split him and Fili up while Ori looked so glad to be seeing his childhood friend again. 

Pride nonetheless made Kili clear his throat and mutter, "I'm sure you two can still catch up while we get started on the portrait, can't you? You'll both not be going anywhere until the end of today's sitting, after all."

It brought Ori quickly back to the present. "Right, right," he said, "well, it's truly good to see you again! You must tell me everything that’s happened while you paint. How are my brothers? I can't believe—oh, the Young Master is right, we should—" He nodded to Kili and Fili's painting equipment in the corner against the door.

Fili was so overwhelmed to be seeing Ori again after all this time that he could barely process it. He had truly begun to believe, as years passed, that Ori had been simply an imaginary friend—just as he'd once imagined he had had a little brother, until the Elves came and stole him away in the night. His overactive imagination, while it served him well for painting, often got him into trouble.

And he did _not_ want to get in trouble with the Master or his son.

He squeezed Ori's hand and stood. "I'm so very sorry, Young Master," he blushed and opened his satchel. "Ori and I, you see, we haven't seen each other since...well, since childhood. I'd like to start with a few sketches of you, if I may."

Kili nodded. That was more like it, he thought, as he looked around the room and wondered aloud, "Should I stand somewhere? Or would you like a tour around the house to consider other rooms too?" He was glad for Ori, of course he was. Kili just wasn't so used to being ignored by someone after having showed an interest. But Ori and Fili were beaming brightly at each other and acted like he wasn't even in the room. He had no idea how to respond to that.

"If you knew what a talented artist Ori is, you would never have commissioned me," Fili told him honestly. "But I look forward to having a chance to prove myself to you, Kili." He looked back to where the patch of sunshine still streamed through a stained glass window. "Could you stand in that light again? Turned a bit to your left, and looking down slightly, as if about to pray?"

"I'm not a terribly pious man," Kili informed him, yet he did as he was asked. Part of him felt cheated, for Ori had never drawn in his presence. He gestured to him, "If you like, sketch something for me too?"

"Oh," Ori practically squeaked, "goodness, no. I can't, I mean, I haven't drawn in years. I'd make a mockery of your appearance, Young Master."

"When I came into the room, you were talking to Ori and smiling," Fili added. "It was a genuine, relaxed smile. While I'm not sure your father would approve of it for a proper portrait, I rather liked the way it looked."

"I have no doubt dad will want to approve of the sketch before you start painting it." Kili stood in the spot where he had been with Ori, beige and red silks flowing around him in an excessive display of wealth, and looked up at Fili for further instruction. "Genuine, relaxed smiles don't strike his fancy, but anything beat what he no doubt has his mind set on already. Ori," and his eyes became more kind, "don't worry about that, please. If you want, you can only show Fili, or neither of us. I feel bad hearing you had a passion for drawing and yet you haven't been able to indulge in it for years."

"I have drawn, a bit, when there's free time," Ori admitted, and Kili's gaze softened even further, to the point where Fili's hand began to shake. 

The Young Master was very, very handsome when he wasn't scowling or acting arrogant. Kili turned to catch Fili staring at him and the blond looked down at his sketch pad quickly. "You're very good looking," he admitted. "My work will not be a chore."

Fili walked closer to Kili. "If you could look in _this_ direction," he held his hand up and off to the left a bit more, "try to hold that expression you had when speaking to Ori...and give me perhaps thirty minutes to sketch, I'd be most grateful."

"Thirty minutes?" Kili gulped. When Fili did not relent, he turned his eyes on Ori. "Could you come here, sit with me and talk?" Thirty minutes was a long time, if he had to sit perfectly still. Yet as soon as Ori sat next to him, Kili committed himself to the task. He was going to prove to this man that he could do this. He could. That fleeting gaze that Fili had given him strengthened his resolve. Kili knew that look. He had expected, after Ori appeared to have a past with the handsome painter, never to receive it.

It made Kili feel unreasonably warm, which showed in his expression. "So what do you draw when you have time?" he asked his friend while Fili sketched.

Ori popped a grape into his mouth, his hands unaccustomed to not having work to occupy them. "Animals, mostly," he told the Young Master. "Nature as well. I never developed a real skill for drawing people, mostly because I tend to avoid them—except for you, of course."

Fili made note of the way the left side of Kili's mouth lifted in a momentary smile. He blocked out the shape of Kili's face, the graceful curve of his Aquiline nose, the profusion of his rich, dark hair that he longed to touch, despite the Young Master's annoying behaviors.

"Meaning you draw me?" Kili raised a curious eyebrow, and chuckled when Ori flustered. "Oh, all right, you know I'm joking with you. Animals and plants it is. Did you draw that stray cat that sits on the balcony every now and then?"

Nobody would notice, he hoped, how he was picturing Fili half stripped and pressed against the dinner table as he spoke of trivialities, nor how the thought of that was increasing his pulse.

"I call him Gollum," Ori grinned around his grape, "and yes, I have drawn him a few times. He's one of the few inhabitants of this house that sits still long enough to be drawn." Ori watched Fili's face, full of concentration, for a few moments. "I could show them to you, if you'd like to see them. The drawings. As long as you don't decide to use them as a 'wanted' poster. I have grown rather attached to that cat."

Kili laughed and pulled out of his reverie. He cast one last look at Fili, one that was flustered and yet promising, before returning to Ori and willing himself to calm down. "If I wanted that cat gone, I would have had him already. Don't think I don't know how he got so round and fat, when there's pieces of cheese missing from the platter whenever he's been 'round. Gollum, you say? Does he belong to anyone?"

The Master's son then turned to Fili as best as he could, trying to only move his eyes and keep the rest of his posture steady. "Is this all right?"

"He's everyone's cat—and no one's. I think he prefers it that way." Ori ate another grape.

"Don't look at me," Fili advised Kili. _If you do, I won't be able to concentrate,_ he lamented. "Look at Ori. Talk to him."

Ori blushed a deep scarlet. Clearly having Kili's attention so focused on him made him uncomfortable. "What would you like to wear for the ball?" he asked, to make conversation.

Like a boy reprimanded by someone who was had not the right, Kili turned back to Ori with a chuckle. He noticed the flush and suppressed the need to pinch his friend's cheeks or just tousle his hair. "Something yellow for you," he pondered. "Do you still have that trimmed waistcoat? And boots. But a nice robe would look good on you too." Kili threw Ori a stern look. "But I get to wear blue, no matter what dad says. None of this _house colors_ business. It's in my name, so if anything, _he_ should be wearing something other than red for a change. As a matter of fact," Kili refused the impulse to turn his head this time around, "you should come too, Fili. People will want to know about the man who is doing my portrait."

"Yellow would be a very becoming color for you, Young Master," Fili told him. "With your dark hair and eyes." It was remarkable how similar the Young Master's cheekbones and nose were to his own Uncle Thorin's, but Fili didn't remark upon it. He didn't think the young landowner would appreciate the comparison.

"It's very kind of you to consider inviting me to your celebration," he added, "considering you still haven't seen a single rendering of you made by my hand." Truth be told, the opulence of the gathering would probably fuel Fili's sense of injustice. Money being spent trying to impress already wealthy guests could better be spent bringing medical care to poorer provinces, and providing education to children.

"But I will today," said Kili, before scowling, "Blue. Or something else, as long as it's not what father is planning on wearing. Yellows for Ori." He canted his head in thought, quickly returned it to its original stance when he realized what he was doing, and mused to the servant, "Yellow would look good on Fili too. What do you think? I haven’t gotten to know him as well as you do."

A single, meaningful look at Fili implied what remained unspoken.

_Yet._

"Yellow," Ori mused. "Sunny, like his disposition."

"I prefer to dress myself," Fili was indignant, "and I happen to think that brown works quite well for me. Perhaps with a bit of burgundy."

"You are not used to rich colors and fabrics, Fili," Ori smiled. "It's quite easy to become accustomed to vivid hues."

"I think I'll save those for my paintings," Fili muttered. He stood and brought his drawing to Kili for his consideration. It was only a cursory sketch of Kili's body. More attention had been given to his hair and face, curled up in a soft, considerate smile, head dipped a bit shyly as he spoke to Ori, who was not in the picture.

The sketch was surprising in its humble portrayal of Kili, and it took him aback. "I look like that?" asked he. While he was very aware of how he looked, humble was not part of that. It certainly wasn't what his father was expecting. Kili liked it, apart from the part where it made him look vulnerable. "Ori? Take a look. Is this...is this acceptable?"

Ori smiled at Fili's work. "Well, you certainly don't look like that all the time, but I'll be honest," he swallowed, "it's the Kili I have grown fond of over the years. It captures a certain kindness, beauty and vulnerability. I doubt the Master will approve of it, though," he frowned, handing it back to Fili hesitantly. His eyes told Fili that he liked it very much, but warned him against further pursuing such drawings.

"It was just a practice sketch, of course," Fili told them both. "We'll absolutely do something more stately for the final product. But perhaps your mother would like to have it?"

"...My mother would." Both Kili's and Ori's good moods fell at that, and Kili turned to the window despite any instructions that he was free to move. "I forget you're not from around here, though I expected you to know this much. My mother has been gone from us for several years. Keep the sketch. You're right; she would have liked it very much. It would be a waste to throw it away."

Fili bit his lip, horrified at what he'd said, even though it was an accident. "I'm so sorry, Young Master, to have brought up something so painful. You're right, I should have known, but I did not. It must have been a horrible loss for you," he lay his hand, unsolicited, on Kili's shoulder to comfort him. "Come, let us continue to work."

Fili tried to imagine life without his own lovely, strong mother. He found he wasn't ready to face that sort of life yet.

"I'd like to spend more time on your face," he told Kili instead. You can sit for that. Do you have any business you need to be attending to?"

Kili waved his hand in the air, not turning from the window, and Ori translated for him. "The Young Master—Kili—would like a minute. But if I may speak for him, there are no other appointments today. Come, perhaps it's time for us to see about your clothing. It'll give you a little tour of the house while we do so." It was a veiled way of saying that Kili's mother was a sensitive subject. Ori started for the door and gestured for Fili to follow.

Outside, and out of hearing range, he sighed. "Sorry. Kili may not be very easy on his father, but he loved his mother."

"I feel terrible, Ori," Fili raked a hand through his hair, mussing it. He retied it with a small piece of leather as Ori led him away from Kili's chamber. "What happened to her?"

"Childbirth." They took a left turn, passing an area Fili had not been to before, although other than some curious servants and a nobleman here and there, it was not clear what the chambers were for. "Kili was to have a sister, but they could not save her mother, and the girl died three days later. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it. It has only been a few years, and all the land was in mourning. The Young Master," Ori put emphasis on the title to indicate Fili was not to address Kili otherwise while they were in the company of others, "looked forward to becoming a big brother. He won't be upset with you if you truly didn't know, but you must not speak of it again."

"You'd be surprised how little news reaches us in the outlying areas," Fili sighed. "That must have been horrible for him. I always wanted a little sibling, too." 

He turned to Ori and drew him in for a hug. "It's really _you,_ " he proclaimed, embracing him tightly. "I'm so happy to see you again, Ori."

Ori giggled like a child and hugged him back wholeheartedly. Some of the noblemen looked at them oddly, but they already considered the servants simple of nature and easily swayed by emotion, and so Ori did not let anyone convince him that this was not proper conduct between men of their status. If anything, it would diminish the nasty rumors of the last few years that he'd fallen in love with his master. "I know," he laughed, "I didn't think I'd see you again. Here you are, though. A better artist than me and changed so much. You used to be so small for your age and reckless..."

And now the Young Master wanted him in his bed. Oh, Ori had understood that well. But while he loved Kili with all his heart, he could not help but feel determined that Fili deserved more than a tumble after dark—two if he was lucky—only to be painfully discarded in the end. For while Kili was a wonderful person around Ori, he was dreadful to those who thought to call themselves his lover.

"Well, I've grown," Fili looked Ori over and found him to be looking healthy and comfortable, "but apparently I'm still rather reckless. My uncle warned me about saying and doing the wrong things around the Masters, and even though I'm trying not to, I've still managed to put my foot in my mouth.

"Now, about your brothers," he smiled. "Dori's hair has gone from red to nearly white. He still owns a bake shop. He does well. Everyone in the village is dependent on his wares for their meals each day. Nori," Fili bit his lip, "well, he helps Dori in the shop, but it's not unusual for him to disappear for days, weeks, at a time. No one's quite sure what he does with himself."

"Oh, he's always had a knack for that. Truth be told, even we never knew what he'd be up to during those times. We never asked him after the first time. It probably wasn't very legal, but don't tell anyone here that." Ori took Fili down a flight of stairs and stopped before a doorway. "Here we are. Now, Fili, don't worry about the Young Master. If he's a brat about it, I'll do the talking for you. Just let me deal with him."

The excitement Fili should have been feeling at being able to tour the Master's home was shadowed by Ori's predicament. Taken from his family at such a young age to serve some arrogant, self-entitled—Fili needed to stop that line of thinking before he got himself in trouble. He took in a long, slow breath.

"What's in here?" he wondered.

"The seamstresses and tailors." Ori led the way until they reached a hall with spinning wheels, looms and several tables, along with a warm hearth fire. He walked past most of them, before stopping in a corner and sitting down opposite a merry-looking man.

"Ori," he smiled. "You're here already! I expected a little longer, but it's done, what you asked of me. Is this the gent they belong to?"

"Aye," replied Ori. "Can I take them back?"

The tailor offered him a bundle, at which Ori passed it through to Fili. "Your clothes," he explained. "We had the seams replaced and a few holes fixed. They're still the same, but they should last you longer than they would have, now."

"Thank you," Fili smiled, surprised at the gesture, clutching his clothing to his chest. "Please, can I pay you for your work?" He reached for his satchel, but realized then that he'd left everything upstairs in Kili's chamber. "I—I don't have my coin purse with me, but I intend to return to pay you, good sir. Everyone deserves to be paid for his services."

"Oh, don't mention it. The Young Master has paid for it already," his childhood friend leaned in and informed him. "You must understand, he usually doesn't take people of our status in for such important things like portraits." There was no other way to say it than bluntly, and Ori cringed sympathetically. "So he feels responsible for what he calls _making you presentable,_ but what is really making sure nobody at court looks down on you. He doesn't mean ill. It's what he did for me when I first got here too."

Ori nodded in thanks to the tailor and started walking back.

Fili opened his mouth to say something—he wasn't sure what—then closed it again immediately. He felt a sense of righteous indignation coupled with inadequacy. Who was this Young Master to decide who needed to be undressed and redressed, simply to suit his tastes? Why was he here, if his outer appearance was so unappealing?

"Are you allowed to see your family?" was what finally came out of his mouth. "Or are you a prisoner here?"

The unexpected question made Ori halt in his steps. He quieted, cast his eyes down, and said, "The life I live here is privileged, Fili. Were they to visit me here, I would be free to receive them, but to ask for the funds and time off to take the journey myself is too much to ask for anyone."

"Have they?" Fili wondered, cocking his head. "Come to see you? Has anyone?" 

"Unfortunately." Ori looked away. "no. But I send them letters whenever I can. I'm not—I like it here, you know. I miss them, of course, but I would miss Master Kili the same way. And let’s face it," he smiled quietly, "he would miss me even worse."

"That," Fili smiled, "I do not question. He is rather dependent on you, isn't he? Ori, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply you're not happy in your work, or proud of it. Of course you are. He doesn't," he lowered his voice to a mere whisper, " _take advantage of you_ , does he?"

Ori looked at him impishly. "Can't get up in the morning without me shedding him some light, that man. And getting rid of the previous night's leftovers in his bed," he added lightly, just to have Fili know that his Master, though benevolent, was rather loose in bed. "But never me. He's a little like a brother to me."

Fili nodded, understanding. "I assume by 'leftovers', you aren't referring to food," he grinned. "Likes the ladies, then, does he?"

"He’ll marry the properly chosen lady, of course, as is his duty one day, but he prefers to share his bed with men." Ori felt for his master. He walked up the steps and then slowed down as they approached Kili's chambers again. "That is his tragedy."

Fili hummed thoughtfully, eyes downcast, as things fell into place. "He didn't invite me here because of my drawing talents, did he?"

"Well..." Ori chewed his lip, "you're a good enough painter; anyone with a trained eye can see. You work well with light, and you've got a good sense of form. But it's my belief that he chose you also out of defiance to his father, and that his eye may have fallen on you for other reasons at first. I'm sorry, Fili. It's not that you're not perfect for the job, it's just that between the two Masters, there is always more than one reason for a decision." He stopped in his steps. "But you mustn't let that cloud his patronage. He's truly interested in your painting, or he would not have hired you."

"Then I shall simply have to paint the finest portrait these walls have ever known," Fili raised his head proudly, "and prove myself to them both."

Ori nodded with a renewed smile. "That's the spirit. Show them. Who knows, others will see your work and may commission you for themselves after you're done." He prodded his long-lost friend. "If that happens, promise me you'll not forget about me and come visit every once in a while. Okay?" He leaned his weight against the doors, waiting only for Fili's reply before taking them back to Kili's quarters, where the Young Master sat waiting with red-rimmed eyes, but an accepting expression.

Before approaching Kili, Fili gave Ori's hand a squeeze. "Ori," he assured him, "I'm not about to lose track of you again."

Oh, but Fili had to be careful not to speak his mind too freely or loudly. He'd often been warned about Kili's temper. And right now, Kili was clearly vulnerable, so Fili trod carefully. 

"Young Master," he approached him and knelt before him, "my inappropriate question caused you pain. I can't begin to express my shame and regret. How can I undo such a grievous offense?" 

Kili watched him for a long time. He wasn't claimed by anger, nor was he calculating or unstable. "If I can have the sketch, I would like that very much. You're right; she would have loved it. I don't know how you did it, I'll be honest, but when I look at it, I remember her."

This day wasn't turning out anything like Kili had planned. He hadn't meant for Ori to be there, either, but the sudden presence of a chaperone, combined with the kindness in the sketch, had his plans for seduction quite unraveled. Another time, he said to himself. There would come a time when Ori wasn't there to protect the painter's virtue. "If you show it to Father, tell him it's a preliminary sketch. He doesn't like things that remind him of my mother. How are your clothes?"

"They were cleaned and repaired with remarkable speed," Fili admitted. "I guess it comes as no surprise to you that I don't have many clothes. I'm embarrassed, now, to tell you that those— _these,_ " he held up the sad bundle, "are my finest. Made finer now by your tailor's attentions." Fili sat the clothing down next to his satchel and changed the subject. "Do you think, perhaps, I could do another sketch or two?"

Kili nodded easily for someone with his upbringing. "Just tell me how to sit." And he followed every direction perfectly.

By three in the afternoon, Kili found himself more exhausted than Fili, and after the fourth study, he asked if they could call it a day. By then he had sat for him for nearly five hours, with Ori occasionally feeding him a story or a grape, and longed for a nap before dinner. "Tomorrow, at the same time?" he asked. Kili wouldn't tell Fili, but it had been nice. Fili was quiet in a comforting way. Had Ori not been there, Kili would not have had much trouble sitting still either, which, he thought, was odd for him. 

When the door closed behind the painter at last, he fell down on his bed, exhausted.

\- - - - - 

Fili was quiet while he and Thorin ate their evening meal, his thoughts turned inward. He knew his uncle was eager to ask him questions, but he must have sensed that to do so would be like tapping into an underground stream that wouldn't stop gushing. He had not chanced it yet.

Fili slid a handful of silver across the table at his uncle. "I'm unable to visit the market tomorrow," he told him, "but I'd like to pay for our food for the week. Please allow me, Uncle."

Thorin raised a brow at him, but he accepted with a minor sting to his pride that his hunger quickly silenced. "I'll be at the market tomorrow morning, and I shall pick something up on my way home." He pushed a potato around on his plate. "You are very quiet. Did today not go well?"

"I think it went very well," Fili told him. "The Young Master seems very pleased with my work. Did you know that my childhood friend, Ori, was made the personal attendant to the Young Master? It's where he's been all these years. Every time I asked about him, you treated me as if I were simple—as if I had imagined him. Why did you do that?"

"Ori?" Cutting his potato in half by means of his fork, Thorin looked for an answer. He decided to stick close to the truth, or as close as he could. "You mean you didn't know? I noticed it was him when he was only just in the Young Master's service, but I thought you knew. Did your mother not tell you?" Thorin had been away from Fili for most of his adult life, only being acquainted because of brief visits and letters sent. Thorin had never seen the necessity to deal with Ori being in Kili's court. He hadn't thought it was that important.

Fili, tired from the long day, couldn't find it in himself to be argumentative. Ori, like so many things in his life, seemed to be just another secret his family had swept under the rug—something that caused adult conversations to grow quiet whenever he entered the room. Like every time he spoke about his father. 

Fili sighed. "It's been a long time since I spent the day drawing. And being around the Young Master is exhausting in and of itself, as you can well imagine. I think I should be getting some sleep. I'll make us breakfast in the morning," he said, rising.

The easy dismissal caught his uncle by surprise, and before he could say anything—because he _did_ want to catch up with Fili and he _did_ want to hear about the Young Master and the details of his nephew's first day at such a high profile commission—Fili was gone. Thorin slumped in his seat. 

The potato had lost its appeal, despite potatoes being the only course on the table that night. How had he let go of his control over the situation so easily?


	4. Fire and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili have a bit of a falling out.

Fili wasn't sure what to wear the next day. He had walked home wearing the finery Kili had given him, despite the discomfort and unusual looks it brought him when he drew closer to home. He decided he ought to wear it again, but carried along his other set of clothing in his satchel in case the Young Master demanded the "good" clothing back.

"Good Morning," Fili greeted the brunet after Ori ushered him into the room where Kili was to sit for him that day. "I was wondering if you'd gotten any more specific instructions from the Master about your portrait."

"Oh." Kili blinked, genuinely surprised. "I didn't know I was supposed to show him."

"He did ask, over dinner," Ori told them good-naturedly.

"Yes, and I didn't show him. Was I supposed to show him? He kept bothering me about it, which made me really not feel like showing him anything. He'll..." Kili's words slowed, and his smile fell, "...he'll probably come have a look for himself, today. Great." He quickly shook it off and eyed Fili with promise. "So, what did the ladies say when you went home looking like that?"

"Ladies?" Fili wrinkled his forehead, perplexed, "I am staying only with my uncle. Truth be told, I was nervous walking through the poorer parts of town in such finery, so I stopped to chat with no one." Fili was more than a little disappointed that Kili hadn't shared his sketches with his father.

"You mean you didn't show anyone?" Kili gratefully leaned back for a grape that Ori handed to him, again trapped in the voluminous outfit from the day before. "But you looked so dashing. I’ll bet you could have had any girl you wanted, yesterday." Or today. Or the day after. Kili was definitely already considering what other outfits would look good on the painter. "Here, have some food. And take some home if you want. We'll get started as soon as you're ready."

"I appreciate your compliments, Young Master," Fili responded, "but to be frank, I am not in the market for a wife." He pulled his paint box from his satchel. "Maybe today we can begin matching up colors." 

Kili took a last bite of cheese, knowing that he probably came across as always eating, and nodded. He sat up straight and allowed Fili to give him directions. "Meaning you have one already?" he mused. "She must have been excited, then."

Fili shook his head. "No, I haven't. But I must admit, I find your speculation amusing." He pulled out a pot of deep brown paint, hoping to be able to create a shade as the base of Kili's hair and eyes. "I shall have to move a bit closer to you, if you don't mind," he told the Young Master, still very much all business.

"Not at all," Kili allowed Fili, sharing a glance with Ori and straightening his back. When Fili was close enough, Kili whispered, "How is it amusing?"

"It's just...fascinating," Fili held a pot of paint up next to Kili's hair, considered it and nodded to himself. It would look perfect, with some richer highlights of auburn added for depth and realism. "Fascinating how you are making assumptions about my life. One look should tell you I'm only a poor painter. There's nothing more interesting to tell you." 

"Oh, I beg to differ." Kili watched the colors being mixed and marveled as his hair color appear before his eyes, made warmer with just a touch of red. "What's not interesting about you?" He sat back, smiled angelically, and asked Ori, "Will you be sketching today?"

The redhead nodded shyly, and held up his sketch pad. “Only until I’m needed elsewhere, of course.”

"I shall too," Fili told Kili, "but I'd really like to get some input from the Master. I don't want to begin a project only to have him completely change it. And, it's your portrait. Your _legacy._ You should also have some say in it."

Fili leaned back and held up a pale pinkish brown pot of paint, comparing it to Kili's skin. "What do you find interesting about me?" he wondered, exchanging the pot for one a bit more golden.

Kili held very still for the time it took Fili to get the pigments for his skin right. His father wouldn't like it, if any of his buzz was transferred onto the canvas. "The curve of your mouth," he whispered, so Ori couldn't hear it. "The color of your eyes. The fact that you're not half as impressed by this house as I thought you would be."

"It's a beautiful home, I admit, Young Master," Fili's hand tightened on the palette knife he held. "But how can you be proud when so many are starving, dying in the streets and you are surrounded by such opulence? That serving plate there," Fili gestured to the platter upon which the depleting pile of grapes and cheese rested, "that platter—such an innocuous thing—were it to be sold, could feed several families for a year, maybe more."

His hand was shaking when he sat down the knife. "I have seen too many die of starvation and illness to be impressed, Kili," he said softly. “I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear from me.”

"Then sell it," said Kili. "It's yours. Sell it. I care not for it. I am not the one who rules this house and if you had been here while my mother was still alive, you would not have said it. Do you think I'm _proud_ of it? Yes, I'm glad I don't have to live in hunger, but so would you be if you were in my position." He found himself frustrated. Here he had offered Fili a compliment and it had been turned into an offence against him. "Ori, please wrap the platter for Fili to take home with him when he is done for today."

Fili closed his paint box with a solid snap. "You're right," he agreed with Kili. "It _is_ just a platter. And I cannot take it. I don't wish to be thought of as a thief. That's what the Master would think, wouldn't he? Or worse yet, a seditionist, because I envision a world where wealth is distributed more fairly. Where everyone, regardless of their station, can better himself—or _her_ self."

Ori's eyes grew large, warning Fili to mind his tone, mind his words. The redhead picked up the platter and left the room, shaking his head and mumbling in frustration.

"I'm sorry," Fili said into the stunned silence after Ori departed. "I'm not what you expected, am I?"

Kili was stunned at the outburst. His garments didn't give him any movement of speech, but he didn't need to move for this. From anger came, as unexpected as it was swift, a pleasant surprise. "No, you're not," the Young Master said before chuckling. "You're perfect. Finally someone who questions my father's rule. I know you must all think it. Rich men in their expensive houses with their food and their parties. I will not apologize for that. I love all those things. But what I do not love is for people to act like we're gods for it, to grovel at our feet."

"The people are groveling in fear, not respect." Fili knew he could be killed for this. "Surely you know that, Young Master. So many live in fear and despair. But," Fili leaned in, "I am not having this debate with you to impress you, nor to upset you. I just… well, I'm saying what needs to be said." A long tendril of Fili's hair had come loose from where it was tied at the nape of his neck. He kept swiping at it as he spoke, finally tucking it behind his ear. "I do envy you. You are in a position to do so many things."

Kili let the large overcoat fall to the floor, giving himself the movement to walk closer. They had started out so peacefully—now look at them. Ever, his chances to make something good out of this dwindled. "You're talking to the wrong person," he stepped into Fili's personal space, maneuvering him back. "I tried to make a difference. My mother tried to make a difference. Those were the golden days. But now my father finds himself backed up by a council of like-minded conservatives. Not a penny. If I speak up, I will be silenced. I am only half as influential as you think I am. I play a charade every day, and you know what? There are parts of it that I actually enjoy. But not seeing others in poverty."

Fili looked away uncomfortably at the mention of Kili's mother. "I didn't mean to imply that you are heartless, Young Master," Fili apologized. "I let my anger override my sense. I'm truly sorry."

Maybe, someday, when Kili was in a position of power, he might be able to enact a change. For now, he was as much a pawn as the rest of the serfdom.

"Let us return to my purpose," Fili raised his eyes to Kili's, "drawing you."

Kili shook his head. Still he pushed closer, with now the strangest look in his eyes. "You say you want to make a statement," he said. "So make a statement. I've heard of it before—painters making a mockery of a religious theme by adding symbolism. Add symbolism to my painting. Make it an ode to my mother and to the people without the Master knowing about it. Make it so you can always deny it, but the people know better. I'm not asking you to make a mockery of me, because I won't stand for it if you do, but if you want to truly make a change, then do it." By now Kili had Fili nearly backed up against the wall. His eyes kept going back to his lips, and he licked his own absently. "You have my permission."

"Young Master!" Fili backpedaled furiously at the onslaught, finding himself at last trapped against the closed door to Kili's chamber. When Kili leaned forward menacingly and flicked across the bolt on the door, Fili knew he'd gone too far. "Kili, I would never make a mockery of anyone I was painting, especially someone paying me so handsomely. Nor," he straightened his backbone, "would I be so subtle in getting my opinions across. I say what I mean. And now, I imagine, you plan to hit me—kill me. So be it. I have been foolish today." 

Fili's words were sobering and painful. That was how the painter saw him, then. That was what Fili thought him capable of. Kili took a step back. "Do you really think I could kill you? For anything?" And another step, before he turned around and walked back to the spot where he’d been assigned to sit. Kili resumed his pose and said quietly, coolly, "Do what you came to do, and let us not waste more time on words."

"My behavior is inexcusable,” Fili's blue eyes searched Kili's, "and I’m sorry. Uncle warned me, sternly, to mind my manners, and yet I...I don't know. I feel an unusual sense of ease to speak freely around you. It will surely be that feeling that ruins me."

"Stop talking," said Kili instead. He was not in the mood to hear anything more from Fili right now, self-deprecating or not. Any other time, the admission would have been nice, but not when it was framed in the assumption that Kili was cold enough to just snap his fingers and decide whether Fili lived or died. Kili bitterly straightened his back. "Perhaps if you don't talk, I won't have a reason to kill you."

Fili nodded resolutely and turned away, picking up his charcoal and sketch pad.

They spend the next few hours in an interminably long and painful silence, in which Fili was sure the entire house could hear his heart pounding. Yet he drew Kili from several angles, always flattering, always softening. His eyes now felt intimately acquainted with each line of Kili's face, and again he remarked at the similarity to Thorin's. It made drawing him easier.

Those intense dark eyes would not look Fili's way, and he realized, shamefully, that he missed the attention.

At long last he brought the pad to Kili. Several sketches pictured the soft cascade of Kili's hair, clearly drawn by a hand longing to touch it. And yet, the sadness was evident as well. These pictures would never do. 

"I shall endeavor to never make you look like this again," Fili told him.

Kili looked at the sketches sadly. They were beautiful, yet they clenched at his heart. His mother would hate these drawings, and it made him dislike them equally. The fault lay not just in Fili's hand, for he had captured Kili's mood over the past few hours well. "I'll try harder tomorrow," he allowed a nod and handed the pieces of paper back. "I'd like it if you wouldn't treat me as if I'm some kind of monster. Agreed?" His energy was spent and of his initial plans—to get Fili in his bed while being made eternal in a portrait—little more remained. "Please let Ori in on your way out. He must feel awful."

Fili didn't know what to say, to do. "I was told I should fear you, Young Master. But, I don't want to." He handed Kili the last of his sketches, in which Kili was turned slightly away from him, looking out the window at the rain. His hand rested on the wall, and Fili had spent a great deal of time on that hand. He was surprised how much it reminded him of his own.

"I should like very much to see a portrait of your mother," he told the Young Master. "If that suits you. Shall I return tomorrow?"

"Would you like to see her now?" The outer robes Kili was wearing fell to the floor when the brunet shrugged out of them, and he breathed out in relief at the lesser burden. "Tomorrow would be good. Two days from now is the ball, and I won't have time to stand for you then. Father will be all over the place, suggesting I wear something different, that my shoes are too gaudy, or whatever else he finds fault with. He always does." He chuckled in small mirth at the memory of last years. "Ori will show you my mother, if it's fine by you. I think I need some sleep. I'm really not that terrifying."

Kili opened the door to let Ori inside.

"No, of course you aren't," Fili repeated. "Good evening, Young Master." And he wasn't. To Ori, Fili said, "Could you show me a portrait of Kili's mother on our way out?"

Ori verified that request with a quick look at Kili, and Kili nodded before he closed the doors and padded back to his bed. As he let himself fall back onto the soft mattress, he looked up and breathed out. It was just his luck, to find someone interesting like Fili and then to have him entirely mistrust him. Kili had never done anything to earn Fili's trust, but neither had he done anything to so completely blow it. Fili, it seemed, already had a perfectly formed idea in his head as to who Kili was.

It wasn't fair. Nor was the inexplicable need to make it right, to somehow earn his trust and make him smile for once. But Fili only laughed freely around Ori, it seemed.

The young servant kept his eyes on Fili when he couldn't see, and he quickly looked away when Fili did. The questions that he held were burning. They moved to another quarter of the keep, its halls a labyrinth that Fili couldn't hope to navigate on his own. "So..." Ori finally chanced.

"So, I'm an idiot," Fili clasped a hand to his chest, stopping in his tracks. "I should be in the stockade, or jail. Or my head on a pike for what I said. Ori, what's wrong with me?"

Those words troubled the other. "What happened? Those doors...they're made to keep any sound out. I couldn't have heard. The Young Master looked defeated, and you, well, you believe you've committed a heinous crime."

"I said terrible, horrible things. I don't even know why." Fili's satchel slipped from his shoulder and landed on the floor. "It just spewed out of me like some hate-filled diatribe. And then he accused me of being some sort of secretive artist, who'd hide anarchistic symbols in his work...I," he leaned back against the wall. "I'm so ashamed. This was to be the commission that changed everything. And I'm making a mess of it."

Fili raised his eyes to meet Ori's. "That he wants me to return tomorrow—it's a blessing. I cannot— _will not_ —act out like that again."

"He accused you of what?" Ori's eyes widened, and he stopped in his steps to take Fili by the shoulders. "Is... is he all right? Are you? That's not a small thing to be saying." Ori ceased his words when another walked by, then leaned against the wall. "So where do you live? I will talk to him and I will figure out what is going on, and I'll visit you tonight for advice. He's never been so difficult to people before. I don't understand why he would accuse you of anything that bad."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to do anything, Ori. I would feel terrible if you endangered your position here. You were right when you said it. It's a plum of a job and you're lucky to have it. Please, don't do this. I will fix things with the Young Master—or I will not. Either way, I'll end up at the same place, back home with my mother, in the mountains." He picked up his satchel in resignation. "Now, that portrait, of the Mistress?"

Ori frowned. "Why will you end up with your mother either way? This is only your first commission. Surely others will like your work and request your craftsmanship to have a portrait of their own." 

He continued his route to the large hall, suddenly turning a corner to his left. A hall stretched before them, lined with family portraits on each side. On the far end, past grumpy red-haired grandfathers and older ancestors, hung the portrait of a golden-haired lady with kind blue eyes and a plump but fair face. The classical beauty, though older than that when the portrait was drafted. "This is Milady Fianna, Kili's mother."

"I cannot stay here in the city forever, Ori. I am, after all, only visiting. I have to return to the Blue Mountains. I work with my mother; we raise sheep, weave cloth, dye it and sell it. She..." Fili's voice petered off as he took in the lady's features. "There is nothing of Kili in her...nor in his father. I had expected the Mistress to have snapping dark eyes and Kili's lovely olive skin. He looks nothing like either of his parents," he concluded sadly. 

"Ah, Kili does spend an awful lot in the sun in the summer. We always try to tell him it's not very becoming for royalty to get a tan, but it's like he doesn't care to listen. He is very much like how she was in person. It's a shame she passed away. If anyone was the perfect balance for the Master, it was her. She could always calm him down when he was ensnared in another one of his great ideas." Ori smiled. He was fond of the Lady Fianna. She had always been good to her, and it was her influence that had warmed Kili up to Ori when he first entered the halls that were to become his home. "You could provide for your mother and uncle several times with what you would earn painting."

"Maybe so," Fili frowned. "But until then, who would help her at home? She is not as young and hale as she used to be."

His eyes studied the portrait of Lady Fianna again, still searching for something—anything—of Kili. He certainly didn't resemble his repulsive father. Or maybe he did and Fili had just refused to see it because he found the man so loathsome in the treatment of his beloved uncle.

"She has kind eyes," he said, at length.

"Aye." Ori stepped back and gave Fili the time he needed. He nodded courteously at anyone who passed, and once he explained in hushed words that it was the painter who would do the portrait of the Young Master when one demanded to know what a servant and an unknown person were doing in the Hall of Ancestry. "A great loss," he whispered when the man passed them by.

"Why has the Master not taken another wife?" Fili wondered.

Ori looked at the floor. "Some say it's because there is nobody who could replace her. But Kili—the Young Master—is not kind to anyone who threatens to take her place."

"Ah," Fili smiled. "That I can understand. I have been on the receiving end of that wrath. I cannot say I wish to be there again. So, this _ball,_ " Fili ventured. "Are you going?"

Ori laughed and shook his head. "No, Fili, I don't think you've truly been on the receiving end of that wrath. He saves it for only a few, and I somehow have the feeling that he quite likes you. Though if you think this is bad..." He trailed off with a quiet smile at Kili's temper. "I've been formally invited. I'll be making sure the Young Master gets his drinks on time, probably, but I'm allowed to be dressed for the occasion. It's a masked ball, which means nobody will know it is me, except for him. People will treat me as if I’m noble. He invited you too, didn't he?"

Fili shook his head. "He spoke of it in my presence, but he hasn't invited me. Goodness, no. But," he smiled impishly at Ori, "you could see that I got in, if you wanted to, couldn't you, Ori?"

A nod affirmed that. "Sure, but...do you want to? You've made no secret of disliking this ilk. Not that it wouldn't make my night a whole lot better."

Fili's eyes grew distant. "Wouldn't it be something, though? To show up in masked finery and have the Young Master not recognize me? To think that, perhaps, _I_ was a handsome nobleman? I think I'd like to see him look at me with something other than..." he paused, biting his lip. "I'd like him to gaze upon me fondly."

Fili had no idea that it was how Kili had started out, before they had both opened their mouths. Ori didn't tell. He didn't want to, because he liked Fili. All of Kili's conquests ended up being discarded, and Ori didn't want for Fili to meet the same fate. That was why he chose for his words to be blunt. "Kili usually wants more from those he looks upon fondly. But you knew that already." There was a question in there.

"I understand what I'm asking, Ori," Fili's face grew serious. "I would like to earn Kili's favor. His _attentions._ Do you think that's possible? Oh, of course it isn't. Where would I even get fine raiment in two days time?"

"Oh, you could leave that to me." The younger paused. If Fili was truly serious, if he knew that anyone who fell into the man's bed would not stay in there for long, but if he thought an anonymous tumble was worth it, then there was nothing Ori could say to dissuade him. "Though if you want him not to know your name," he wondered, "then that's not really earning his favor, is it?"

Fili's face fell. "You're right, Ori. Of course, you're right. Surely there is a better way to regain his respect. Besides, I'd feel dreadfully out of place among such cultured people." Fili took one last look at Fianna's portrait. "I should be going. It's sundown."

Ori scoffed. "They're not such cultured people. They talk differently, but some of them have no measure. Please, come if you can. I won't tell him, and you can decide for yourself whether you want what you said you wanted or whether you prefer to take off the mask. Though I don't really understand why you want him. You and he have been like fire and ice since you two met."

Fili chuckled, "Really, Ori... what can quench fire better than ice?" he smiled and slipped out the back door of the grand mansion with a smile.


	5. The Observatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to find a perfect spot for Kili's portrait, Fili gets to explore some of the lovelier parts of the Manor.

"Fili?" 

Thorin pushed another potato around on his plate, though tonight they also had some vegetables and a fine piece of meat—slightly undercooked, because Thorin had been afraid to burn it. Delivery from an unnamed man, the messenger had said, before handing him the wrapped package. On the table between him and his nephew lay half a loaf of bread. It was a meal like he hadn't seen in a long time. He felt guilty for saying what he said next. " I will be out of town for a few days. There has been an accident at the mine where I usually get my ore, and I will need to go to the next village to get supplies."

Fili's eyes grew wide. "Thorin...was anyone killed? How awful." The idea of his uncle leaving him alone in the city, if only for a few days, terrified him, but he could not give voice to this. "I'm sure I'll be fine a few days alone. I'll just be working...at the Master's home."

Thorin grunted. "I know you will be. I would have had it differently, I'm afraid. The mine collapsed this morning. There was a fire, which still hasn't been tamed. You didn't hear of it when you were painting?" He supposed the palace should have been in an uproar. "Three people died, God save their souls. It could have been much worse, but it will be out of service until the collapsed corridors have been repaired and reinforced. The ball is two days from now, isn't it? I would appreciate it if you could help me out at the workshop then."

Fili's heart broke for the three poor workers who had perished. Then, realization dawned. "You...you wish for me to work for you _during_ the Name Day Ball?" 

The potato was finished before Thorin started on the long beans. He carefully took a bite and nearly groaned at the taste. It had been too long since he had had long beans, and a longer time since his stomach was looking at the prospect of actually being filled. He owed that to Fili and his work for the Young Master. "It isn't much. Two of my customers will come pick up their commissions on Saturday, and you'll just need to be there in case someone comes in to make a purchase. Unless," he stopped eating, "were you invited to the Name Day Ball? With the Young Master occupied all day, I assumed that you would have a day off."

"I..." Fili was lost for words. He didn't want to lie to his uncle, and yet the words came too easily. "Truth is, Uncle Thorin, the Young Master _did_ request my presence there. He wanted to introduce me to the court as the artist doing his portrait. But," Fili lamented, "I have nothing to wear, and no hopes of finding something appropriate with only two days to spare. So, I'm glad you've given me something to occupy my time with that day."

Thorin looked at his nephew sadly, his fork having skewered three beans and yet resting on his plate. He considered whether he ought to tell him to go, but he needed him at the shop. Then again, Fili's presence, if he was to be introduced to others who would pay him handsomely for his talents, was worth more than a day at the shop. Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose and at last sighed out. "All I need is for you to man the shop during the day. If you do that, you're free for the night. You should go, it is important for you."

"I do appreciate your permission, Thorin," Fili told him, his meal long forgotten, "but I still won't be able to find a suitable costume in two days time. And I cannot represent the House of Durin improperly."

"The outfit the Young Master gave you is nice enough, is it not?"

"I suppose it could be, aye," Fili's stomach suddenly dropped to his worn boots, so he decided to change the subject. "I saw a portrait of the former Mistress of the town. You know, it's remarkable, the Young Master seems to resemble neither of his parents."

That got Thorin's full attention. "So they say," he said, because denying it was pointless. "He hasn't got the family's red hair, which seems to run dominant throughout the rest of the line, and his eyes are dark where they should be blue. They had him subjected to tests as a child, to make sure he was of pure blood. If those tests wouldn't have come out right, he wouldn't be where he is now. So I suppose he's a little joke of nature, but a true heir nonetheless. There's this girl a few villages over who has the same thing. They say she is destined for greatness, selected by the gods to stand out. I'm not so sure whether that's the same for the Young Master though."

"He certainly stands out," Fili murmured, idly fiddling with his stein. "Thorin, would you...?" but he paused. "Never mind, it's ridiculous."

Thorin waved his fork about with a smile. "Just like your mother you are. Out with it!"

"No, this—this really is uncomfortable for me to speak of. It's not a topic you and I ever talk to one another about," Fili's slim fingers drummed at the table top nervously.

"And you telling me this isn't making me want you to be out with it any less. Not helpful." But if it made Fili uncomfortable, then it most likely wasn't good news, so Thorin braced himself nonetheless.

"I have never asked you why you never took a wife," Fili said quickly, "and that's because I do respect your privacy, Uncle. I think that you should know, since I'm staying here with you, in the event that I actually do _meet_ someone...that, well, I'm not interested in finding a wife either."

Fili hoped that Thorin would infer what he was trying to say without having to explain much further.

Thorin coughed at once, the meaning clear immediately. "I never took a partner, that is true," he started on the easy part, his dinner forgotten. Never had he expected to have the talk with Fili. The lad was old enough to have had it with his mother by now. "That's, you see, I wouldn't be able to provide for anyone. The workshop is getting food on the table, but hardly enough for two mouths. Not, I mean, that you're unwelcome. Besides, you earn your own food now, for which I am grateful. Imagine what it would be like if I were to marry, and a child would be expected? Imagine a helpless being like that growing up with only a third of yesterday's food. I cannot support a partner, let alone a child. I have no time for love, boy, not like this. If you do, then I encourage it. Even if that means you'll not have children of your own, if I am to understand you correctly."

"I do love children," Fili sighed sadly, thinking back to the wee ones in the Blue Mountains, how he always stopped to join in their games whenever he could. "I don't think upon it much, Thorin, what it would be like to be someone's partner— _husband._ Probably for the same reasons you do. But have you ever met someone and simply felt a...a spark?"

"I know what it's supposed to feel like, but no, I haven't. Fili, why the sudden interest in this? Is there someone on your mind?" Thorin dared to hope in a specific direction, because he was afraid to turn his eyes the other way. "Your friend Ori?" He took a deep breath. "Look, I don't mind it if you fall for a man, but if you plan on breaking this to your mother soon, you ought to go about it more carefully. She has been thinking of grandchildren since you were barely old enough to procreate."

"I don't want to jinx anything by talking about it. About _him,_ " Fili corrected, for his uncle's benefit. "But—oh, Thorin, I can't quite put it into words—I feel like I'm standing on the brink of something. Something _amazing._ "

No denial. _No denial_ , echoed wonderfully through Thorin's thoughts. He relaxed without realizing it, and chanced another bite from a meal that did not deserve this lack of interest. "Yes, of course," he smiled with relief. "That's—I hope it works out for you. If there is anything I can do to be of help, name it. I was planning to write your mother, but I'll make no mention of it, all right?" Thorin pointed at Fili's plate. "You should really eat. It is good food."

"I can think of nothing you could do to help me, Thorin, other than your support. It's more important than anything else. It gives me strength, and helps temper my stupidity," Fili smiled.

Fili slept well that night, for what he was sure would be the last time until Thorin returned. In the early morning, he saw his uncle off with a bag of freshly baked bread, butter and honey, along with some leftover ham from the evening before.

He occupied his time before he was expected at the Master's grand house by drawing sketches of Kili's face from memory.

\- - - - -

Kili was on good behavior that day. He woke to take a long bath that took too long but was soothing enough to make up for being late. His hair was still wet by the time Fili came in, but the light was perfect that day and he was quick to change into the clothing chosen for the portrait behind a screen that still outlined him as he shed one layer and moved into the next. Ori did his best to smile and placate any trouble that would arise once he started speaking, though there was no need.

"Did you and your uncle like the meal I sent you yesterday?" Kili asked him over the screen. "I asked Ori for something to give you for yesterday and he said that it had to be something practical." He quieted to get into his trousers, hardly gracious as he stumbled over one leg. "We will be working on the final sketches today, won't we?"

Ori had come to him the night before and relayed Fili's thoughts. Kili felt bad about that. He had only meant to try and see if Fili was interested in hidden symbolism. Kili loved hidden symbolism, especially if his father didn't understand it. Instead, the painter had taken it as an accusation that made him sound like a scheming bastard, adding salt to the wounds that the session itself had already opened. He hadn't meant it like that. The dinner had been an apology, but he hoped he had gotten it right and had not added further insult to injury.

"It was very kind of you to deliver meat to our home. We so rarely have it. Uncle struggles to make a living, and, as you've seen, his work is unparalleled, but with the blunting," Fili's face fell, "it's hard watching him look so defeated. The meat put some color on his cheeks. He has to go away for a few days, so I sent some along with him on his trip."

Kili made a mental note about that, but made sure not to appear too excited to hear it. "Has he considered taking a proper apprentice? He would spend more time in the forge, with more work to offer at the market. It would be more mouths to feed at first, but I have a feeling it'd pay itself back very soon, and perhaps I can help with the food for a short while?" Kili could see that if his uncle, that grumpy blacksmith whom Ori thought was handsome enough, wasn't happy, then Fili wasn't happy. "Just a suggestion, of course," he quickly added to make sure Fili didn't consider him a man with too much unsolicited advice, "I'd hate to see such talent go to waste."

Finishing getting redressed, he folded the screen and stepped forward. Ori sat on the bed, at the ready in case he needed anything, but Kili was determined not to ask him for anything. "So where do you want me?" he asked Fili instead, all professional.

"I don't know if you'd heard. There was a mining accident," Fili explained quickly, checking over his supplies "and in order to get supplies, Thorin needs to travel to another village, further away. He borrowed a horse. He has never felt the need for an apprentice, and, to be honest, I've always felt guilty that I never felt the call to become a smith. A better nephew would have done that for him. But he never forced me. He always encouraged me to paint. I've been...I've been very lucky."

Fili turned to Kili, "Since the Master still hasn't given me guidance, I'd like to try something today. The ideal portrait will capture you in your element. Where is your favorite place to be, Kili?"

"Ah..." Kili didn't know what to say. "So he will be on the road for the upcoming few days? Was it a serious accident? Your uncle is all right, isn't he?" He hadn't known smiths were supposed to be in mines, but it made sense. So on top of doing everything himself, he had to do that too. How did Fili's uncle get enough time to even eat and sleep?

He absently wondered, "The botanical gardens? Or the rooftop, but I don't think father will be pleased when you choose the rooftops for a painting."

"Oh," Ori nodded, "the gardens would be very nice."

"Gardens?" Fili's head shot up. "Show me?"

Ori was up before Kili could move. The Young Master looked helplessly at his cumbersome attire, only just having wrested himself into it. Kili wanted to come along, but he had little interest in getting out of his clothes again. They weren't suitable to drag along out to the gardens and back. "You go ahead?" he tried. "I'll be here if you say you like it, and then I can always get changed and back in one of the adjoining rooms when we're there."

"But," Fili turned to Kili, "you should come. I want to see you there. How can I determine if it's your element if I cannot see you there?"

Kili asked pity of him with his eyes. "I just got changed." But when Fili didn't relent, he unfolded the screen again and asked Ori over it, "Can you give me a hand?"

It took them close to ten minutes before Kili was in easier clothing and ready to go. He would have grumbled, but he wanted today to go smoothly for once. "Come along. Should we take the clothing with us?" That would be even more troublesome, especially because using a cart to transport the valuable clothes, which would make things easier, was going to give his father a heart attack if he found out.

"I'll come back for them later if the gardens are okay," offered Ori helpfully. "If you'll follow me."

Fili felt a tinge of guilt, but the importance of capturing Kili in just the right location for his portrait overrode that. He hefted his satchel over his shoulder optimistically. Plants and vines could make a perfect background, but it was challenging not to cross the line into creating too feminine a portrait by surrounding the Young Master with flowers. He was suddenly struck with the idea of Kili wearing a crown of linked daisies and smiled.

"Do you spend a great deal of time in the gardens, Young Master?" Fili asked as they walked.

"Oh yes," Ori beat him to it. "Favorably with a book and quiet company." He laughed when Kili looked at him murderously. "That's okay. I happen to be the quietest company around, and I like the gardens too. There are two parts, you'll see. One part is in a greenhouse. We keep the tropical plants there. Perfect for when it's raining or cold outside. And then there are the palace gardens. I think you'd like the greenhouse very much." It was also Kili's favorite, unless the weather was particularly nice.

The halls were slowly starting to feel familiar to Fili as Ori led them past the Great Hall and to the south side of the keep, where he pushed open a door and offered Fili access to a dome-shaped greenhouse through which winded a small bricked road.

Kili walked ahead to the place he liked only when not a lot of people were around, a small round atrium with a fountain statue of three nymphs and a faun, and a sundial. It was the kind of place that would look great in a painting.

To Ori's delight, it was Fili—and not the Young Master—whose face wore a look of childish discovery. "I understand," Fili told the pair, taking in a deep breath of air that smelled of plants and soil, "why you like it here so much. It's like escaping to another world, isn't it?" He placed his materials on a stone bench and moved to sit on the edge of the fountain, dipping his hand into the water where fat goldfish were swimming. One of them flicked its tail and the water caught Fili in the face. He looked up, grinning sheepishly.

Kili watched him in wonder. He was to be officially an adult as of tomorrow, but this man who was several years his elder looked like a kid in a playground. "You like it then?" he asked. It was just the greenhouse. "Wait until you see the observatory."

The observatory wasn't fit for a painting, as there was more function than form to the copper dome atop the wooden ladder, but suddenly Kili wanted to show it to Fili and ignore the portrait for the day. "Follow me," and he dragged Fili there by his hand, Ori in tow. 

Fili's eyes fell to their clasped hands, then turned helplessly to Ori. _What do I do?_ blue eyes asked him silently.

Ori smiled at him. _Just go with it._ Kili sometimes held Ori's hand too, when there weren't people around. It meant he was comfortable around him—though how that could have happened, Ori didn't understand either.

They continued until they reached a smaller circle and the base of winding stairs. Kili let go of his hand and headed up until he was gone from their sight. "It's also great for hiding from people," he called down.

Ori attested that with a smile. "And from me. Afraid of heights, unfortunately. Go on. He pushed me up there once and it'll be better at night, but it's nice. Not many visitors get to see it."

Slowly, Fili followed the Young Master up the narrow, spiral stairway to where it opened to a larger room at the top. "I wasn't aware the city had an observatory. I have often heard about telescopes, but never actually saw one up close."

"Well, there's not a lot to see right now, but you might be able to use it to get a better view of things. I prefer coming here when the gardens are closed at night and it's clear outside. Nobody to bother you, dead silence, and just the view of the stars." Kili arched his brow without much effort or intent, offering the telescope to Fili to see. "Perhaps we should come here again at night. Maybe tomorrow, if you'll be at the ball."

"The ball?" Fili turned to him. "I hadn't been asked. I—I didn't think you'd..."

Kili grinned. "Of course you're invited. I'd say, if only to show off my painter to the lot of them, but I think I want you to have just one night of abandon with good food and wine and no worries, too. If you haven't got anything else planned..."

"I'd really like to come," Fili didn't want to sound too eager, but the idea of being surrounded by opulence and beauty for one night—his artist's soul cried out for it. "Perhaps _that_ will be where I find you in your element." He had no doubt the Young Master would be the most attractive and sought after person in attendance.

"Now," Fili turned to the telescope. "How do I work this?"

"Well, you can't paint me in a crowd," Kili leaned closer with a mysterious smile. "Here, look through this, and use your weight to shift the telescope around. It's calibrated to show you almost all of the view without necessary adjustments." He waited until Fili was lost to the view before adding, "I look forward to seeing you there. It's supposed to be a masked ball. You knew about that, right? If you need help with a costume, I can ask Ori to help you out."

Fili gave a gasp when his gaze fell upon something familiar. "My god..." he marveled. "It's the Blue Mountains. It's as if I could touch them. But it's two day’s walk! How is that possible?" He raised a trembling hand to steady the telescope, but didn't stop looking. "I can nearly see my mother's home." A tear ran down his cheek, but Fili didn't wipe it away.

Beyond his view, Kili frowned. "Two days of walking? It is half a day by carriage, and that is on a bad day. You mean you've never traveled there by carriage or by horse? But your mother lives there. How do you...?" 

Ori was from there, too. On multiple occasions had Kili offered it, only to have his father deny him the passage when he found out. According to the Master, servants were not to be indulged when it came to personal wishes. But Fili was no servant, and Kili was sure he would be allowed to send him there for a few days if it meant getting to see his mother, and perhaps thinking of him less like his heart was made of stone and ice.

"You miss her?" he sat down and asked timidly. Kili could understand that. He missed his own mother too.

"What?" Fili turned to him, swiping the tear away. "No, _no_ ," he smiled. "Why, I've only been away from home for eighteen days or so. I haven't had time to...well, if you must know, I do miss her cooking. Thorin is a terrible cook, and I inherited none of her abilities.

"The trip here is faster than the trip back," Fili sat down next to him, explaining, "because it's downhill. The walk back," he sighed, "well, I'm not looking forward to it. I'm just fortunate that I have my health. It's a beautiful place, the Blue Mountains. Have you never been?"

Kili shrugged. He didn't want to say that among his friends, the Blue Mountains weren't exactly the place to be found. They were one of the poorest places of the area, with nothing but farmers and basket weavers. "Maybe I'll still take Ori there some day. If I do, I'll make sure to drop by your mother's and tell her hello from you. Even if you just saw her a few days ago." He watched Fili as he sat there, admiring his features. How a man raised in such conditions could have such a raw intensity and yet such a kindness to him was beyond the Young Master. He longed to possess it.

"You look at me as if I'm some exotic creature from a far off land," Fili tilted his head quizzically, "when I'm the one who's supposed to be studying _you,_ Kili." His eyes locked with Kili's. "Would you really do that? Take Ori home to see his family? "

"If father would allow it." Kili leaned forward, his arms on the railing behind him and effectively pushing his chest forward—without any intent on his side. His mouth curved into a lazy smile. "You're not doing a great job studying me, and I'm not blessed with the skill to transfer a picture from life to oils like your hands are. You _are_ an exotic creature from a far off land, Fili. At least if you go on foot and continue to speak your mind about things. I have no idea what to do with you, I'll be honest."

"You don't know what to do with me?" Fili chuckled. "That truly surprises me, Young Master. Because, I think I know _exactly_ what you'd like to do with me." At that moment, clouds crossed over the sun, giving an unintentionally dramatic flair to Fili's words, and he chuckled again. "I didn't arrange that. I'm not _that_ exotic."

Kili stuck out his tongue boyishly. Nobody could see them, up here in their sanctuary, and nobody was to chide him for acting on a fine line between childishness and temptation. "Oh, I _knew_ what I wanted to do with you, though I think you kind of turned those plans upside down. You turned out to be offended by nearly everything that was meant to be flattering."

"So, tell me," Fili leaned forward, his voice nearly a whisper. "Tell what your plans were. Surely I would find _those_ to be flattering. If I am offended, I give you permission to hurl me from that ledge," he gestured towards the telescope.

Challenged, Kili leaned back. If he looked calm, then he was a fine actor indeed, for his blood was buzzing with excitement. He canted his head sideways, considering what Fili could stand to hear and what he was free to tell him without scaring his painter away, should Fili not like what he heard. "I think I would have wanted to test your boundaries," he said. Which sounded too diplomatic, he quickly decided, and he added, "I would have seen you naked on my sheets, Fili."

"Tell me about those sheets," Fili asked of him, unable to hide the pink creeping up from his chest to color his face. "What would they feel like against my skin?"

"Silk," whispered Kili. "Cool in summer and warm in winter. Liquid fabric that would make you feel like you're swimming." And if the fabric didn't, then Kili would make sure of it. "Like you're bathing in luxury. You'll never feel fabric finer than imported silk from the South. And they would be burgundy for you. Ruined," he breathed in, "before the end of the night."

Fili swallowed audibly, clearly rattled. "And, your other lovers...do they get a different color of silk? Or must they suffer with wool or muslin?"

"Oh, I prefer not to think of anyone else when I have my mind on you," Kili chanced a breathy whisper against Fili's ear.

"Kili! Fili? Guys?"

Kili pulled away with sobering realization. Ori was at the base of the winding stairs. He didn't care that they were in the garden in the middle of the day, but he did care about Ori. Kili had forgotten about him completely. He laughed nervously at Fili and then called down, "Coming!"

But Fili wasn't quite ready to go down and face anyone. He was in a bit of a state, physically. Being sure to keep his back to Kili, he stood, picking up his satchel and holding it in front of his arousal like an apron, a shield.

"The garden, then?" he wondered, voice hoarse. "The green would be flattering against the red and beiges of your finery."

Kili nodded vehemently. "But first I think I need to calm down. You're not painting me like this. Let's...fall into the pond and take a bath or something, yes?" He looked surprisingly contrite when he admitted, "I do try never to get Ori mixed up."

"W-what do you mean, mixed up?" Fili wondered, eyes falling involuntarily to the tell-tale bulge below Kili's waistline. This turned out to be a huge mistake. "Kili, I..." he gasped helplessly.

One look at him, and Kili couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, nothing like that! It makes him uncomfortable, those kinds of things, and I don't like making him uncomfortable. I meant, I just try to keep him away from my room whenever, oh, _you know_. To save his feelings. He's like a brother to me."

"I feel the same way," Fili offered quickly, "about Ori, I mean. You can't imagine my joy at having found him again after all these years." Talking about less salacious things was helping Fili calm down. "I'll speak with him about finding me something proper to wear to your party. I'm really looking forward to it."

"Me too. It'll be the best ball this town has had in years. I wonder if you'll recognize me. I'm hoping you will. But don't tell me what you're going to look like. It'll be a surprise for both of us." Kili wanted to lean in and kiss Fili, but he knew that now was not the time. "I'm going down now. He's perceptive, so I'm sure he will notice. Besides, we've been up here an awfully long time now. So let's just...get it over with, okay?"

Kili waited for Fili to nod, then headed back to the steps and descended. He smiled guiltily at his friend, who indeed did see at once what was up, sighed and turned around to give Fili some propriety while he came down.

They spent the afternoon in the warm sun in the gardens. Again, Fili sketched the Young Master from several angles. Oh, but the sunlight was so becoming to him—the play of shadows in the depths of his unbound hair, in the stubble on his chin, in the folds of his leather clothing. 

When Kili left to use the privy, Fili finally had the opportunity to turn to Ori and ask, "I know it's terribly short notice, Ori, but are you able to help me find something appropriate to wear to the Young Master's party?"

Ori squinted at the sun and blocked it with one hand. "I promised you I would," he said easily. "Actually, Kili said I had permission to have something made for you in advance. We took your measurements, remember? If you'd like, I could take you to the tailor after today's session, so you may approve of it. It's, ah, it's a personal design." Ori blushed. "Nobody other than the tailor has seen it yet. I hope you like it."

"Oh, Ori, really?" Fili swept the redhead into a tight hug. "You are so kind, thinking of me like that. Goodness, the curiosity is killing me!" He suddenly blanched. "I'm terrified, Ori. I can't just show up at a society party."

"Then you'll stick close to me." Ori wasn't society material either. In fact, Fili was more of the ball's standard than him, now that he was a court painter. "Nobody will recognize you unless you want them to. Just enjoy the food and pretend to laugh at terrible jokes. They all think they're hilarious." He leaned in and whispered between them, "It's just hot air, trust me. Don't tell anyone I said that."

Fili squeezed his hand. "Thank you. I couldn't possibly ask for a better friend than you, Ori."

That day's sketches, in Fili's opinion, were the best yet. He drew Kili from memory, standing next to the great telescope in the observatory, sitting on the lip of the fountain with the cavorting nymphs, and—much to Kili's embarrassment—with his back to a large tree holding a rabbit on his lap. 

"I think that one's my favorite," Fili admitted, biting the inside of his cheek playfully, as he showed them to the Young Master.

The sketches had the strength to lure anyone in. "They're beautiful." Unfortunately, Kili didn't think his father would like the rabbit one, nor the telescope in the observatory. Don't appear too interested in things, he always used to tell him. They were noblemen, not scholars. "Keep them," Kili said. "Perhaps after the official painting, you will receive so much praise that father might be amenable into having one of these made. Your work today is different...Father might like the one near the fountains. He will ask that I stand up and look strong, of course, though he could be persuaded, don't you think, Ori?"

Ori agreed as he looked over the sketches. They made him want to draw more, which meant they were powerful. "This one, definitely. It's humble yet classical. If you raised your chin, you could look like you're either looking at the sky or proud. Is that a thought, Fili?"

"I'm not going to lie, Young Master," Fili said, "I myself could spend hours sketching you in various poses, but you have work to do, and I have a portrait to produce. I think it's time to approach your father with what he'll allow so that we can down to the business of laying paint on canvas."

Finally there would be colors, and finally Kili would see the present for his name day unfold. He agreed with eagerness. "I'll make an arrangement to see father after the weekend about it. Then we can get the keys to the garden and officially close it off while you paint." And Kili would sit for him in expensive garments, in which he needed to change somewhere. The small shed would be perfect for that.

There was the ball in celebration of his adulthood first, but Kili couldn't wait.

Ori instead looked at Fili meaningfully. "If you are done for the day," he offered, "maybe it's time I showed you that thing I promised to show you?"

"Oh?"

"A secret, Kili," Ori smiled. "You'll see."

"Oh!" The Young Master understood. "Certainly. Go." He smiled at Fili. "I will see you tomorrow. It starts around two in the afternoon, if you can make it."

Fili smiled, but his stomach was doing small flips. Two in the afternoon? He had promised Thorin he'd mind the shop for him. "I shall do my best to attend, Young Master," Fili answered him diplomatically. "I'm sure it will be a magnificent affair." He raised his hand in parting and left to follow Ori down the hallway.

"Oh my goodness," Fili squeezed Ori's arm. "Ori, I feel very strange."

"Of course you do," Ori said—in the middle between amusement and concern—as they walked. "So, you and Kili, back in the observatory...?"

Fili smiled. "Nothing happened, but I think I wanted it to." At that realization, his face instantly clouded over. "What's wrong with me? I can't. Ori...I can't do that. I'll lose my commission. I'll end up in jail!"

"For sleeping with the Young Master? He's not that callous, you know. He's mostly just very casual to those he had in his bed, like they're common friends, unless someone makes a scene, but even if they threaten to take it to his father, they don't end up in jail." Ori watched Fili closely, wearily. "I was afraid it would end up like this."

Fili nodded, understanding. "I should keep it professional, shouldn't I? I'll only regret it. Unless...oh, Ori," Fili squeezed his hand. " _You_ are fond of him."

Ori stilled and batted his eyes. The corridor they were in was empty and any words would echo, so he tried to be quiet, but the whisper came out too loud despite his attempt. "I am fond of him, but not like that. I know him too well for that. I don't understand what is so appealing to fall in bed with a man for night without romance, or mutual affection. What is it about him? I see him like a brother, Fili. I don't understand."

"I'm not after only one night, Ori. That has never been something I've craved. Perhaps it's why my experience is so...limited," Fili lamented. "But...his eyes. Have you seen them? The way they light up so impishly. They way they telegraph every little emotion that's running through him? And his hair. Is it as soft as it appears? Why am I so _drawn_ to him?" Fili punched his own thigh in consternation. "He's a beautiful man, I suppose. Is he not?"

Ori looked sullen. "I suppose he's desirable. I just—oh, I wished he shared at least some of our thoughts on this. He is beautiful, and his hair softer than it looks when brushed but coarser when it's not, and any man would be happy to have his heart, but none ever will. In all my years in his service, I have never seen him in love. Maybe that's it. We all want what is unattainable, do we not?"

Fili nodded, sadly. "But you know what I really want? I want to go to that ball, and eat myself sick and sit around with you making fun of the nobles. Show me this costume you've had made for me, Ori." Fili cupped his friend's chin. "You and I will have a fine time."

It was with a recovering mood stemming from those words that Ori decided that Fili was right and led him through the labyrinth to the same tailor who had fixed his clothing before. Fili need not go to the ball for Kili, though he would probably seek him out if he could. They could talk about old times, or share their mutual interest in drawing.

Ori wanted to do right by him. Unfortunately, that meant speaking the truth about his Master. If Fili still wanted him, then he was at least well-informed. "There you go," he stepped aside to reveal the costume on the manikin.

"I'm still working on the details," the tailor kept his head down. "It'll be done on time. Is it to your liking?"

 _This surely cannot be meant for me,_ Fili marveled, stepping in to run his fingers carefully over the silky emerald green blouse with sparkling gold-threaded piping. The pants were leather, dyed a darker green than the blouse, and also embellished with gold. He walked around to the back of the costume and noticed a wing-like pattern had been sewn into the shoulders that extended, by fabric to attach to the arms—true wings. Ori had ordered him a dragon costume!

Nearby on a table lay a mask designed to cover the upper half of his face. It was gold and beaded with green glass sequins and buttons. It was beautiful. 

"Ori," he smiled. "It's amazing. Thank you. _Thank_ you, sir!" he bowed to the smiling tailor. 

Muffled against Fili's chest all of a sudden, Ori laughed. "You like it then? I said it was my own design, but mister Bofur here came up with the wings and has been working hard to get it all done in time. He deserves half of the credit."

"Oh, come now, Ori. I would have never known what to do if it weren't for you. Well, lad, what do you want me to add? Ask me to remove something and it'll cost me time, but adding something shouldn't be a problem."

"I couldn't possibly begin to suggest what would make it more beautiful, Mr. Bofur," he smiled at the tailor. "Could we maybe have some beads, to weave in my hair...braids with baubles?" Fili reached behind his neck and released the leather clasp. His thick, blond hair fell unfettered over his shoulders. "What do you think?"

Bofur's mouth stood in a silent 'oh'. "Braids would suit you marvelously," and he quickly looked down, as if Fili was noble and he had spoken out of turn. "I'm afraid that beads will have to be made by the goldsmith but, what with everyone's costumes, he has no available time until after the ball. I could cut some out of wood and have them coated with gold paint, though it'll not be nearly as beautiful. And you shouldn't go with silver, Master Fili. Gold suits you much better."

" _Real_ gold?" Fill chuckled. "Oh, I don't think so. I'd be terrified. But, I think my uncle might have some clips at home that might be appropriate. He wears them all the time, to keep his hair from his face while he's working at the forge. It's what inspired me, in fact. They're bronze, but in the dim light of a masquerade hall, they might appear gold." He closed his eyes, envisioning it. "Yes, that's what I'll do. Mr. Bofur, you are going to have to let me pay you for your work. This could not have been an easy task."

The tailor waved his concerns away with a dismissive hand. He grinned at Ori. "It has been taken care of. You should stop offering me extra money for what the Young Master has already paid me for in wages and supplies. Though if you insist on a reward, then tell everyone who asks that I was the one who made them for you." Kili's costume had not been made by Bofur; for that, the Young Master had taken in a very expensive and very famous tailor. But Bofur would bet that this masterpiece would be nearly as good.

"I will find a way to thank you," Fili assured him. "Perhaps I could come sketch or paint you while you work? Surely your wife would like a portrait of you to hang in your home." He could tell his attentions were making Bofur nervous. "When shall I come pick it up, then?" he wondered, hand still caressing the silken gold trim at the shoulder.

"My brother might," Bofur skipped around the subject of a wife easily. Ori might explain later, he thought. "But that might be nice, though really, just telling people my name would make me happy. If you can pick it up before the ball tomorrow, around one o'clock, that'd be great?"

"I'll come pick it up," said Ori. "Master Fili can pick it up with me. I'm afraid that without me, he'd get hopelessly lost here." He smiled kindly at Fili. "And I could keep it out of the Young Master's prying eyes."

"I will sing your praises to anyone who'll listen, Bofur," Fili assured the tailor. "And Ori is right. This place is a labyrinth. I'd need him...or a trail of breadcrumbs." He raised his hand in parting.

"He's got the most marvelous, playful eyes," Fili remarked of Bofur as they walked down the hall.

Ori led him to the main entrance and outside. "He's a good man. Always cheerful, you know. You should draw him, if you've got the time." He folded his hands together and stood looking at the setting sun. Golden light poured around him. How Ori wished he could go outside these walls now, just for a walk. But Kili was waiting. The ball was tomorrow, and he had been restless about it for several days now. He needed Ori there. "So I'll see you tomorrow before the ball?" he asked. "I'll be wearing a red robe, with a white mask and brown clothing. My theme is the librarian. You can't miss it. Just to make sure you can find me if you need me."

"I will," Fili assured him, "need you, _and_ find you." He watched as Ori's face moved through a gamut of emotions. "I imagine Kili will be a handful tomorrow," he smiled, in understanding, "so I'll try not to be. I promise," he leaned in and kissed Ori on the cheek, "Ori."

Fili hoisted his satchel and left. Although excited about the next evening, he also felt terribly nervous. In the back of his mind, a bit of fear blossomed as well. Something unusual was about to happen.


	6. He Paled Them All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili's Name Day arrives, and with it the masquerade ball.

Kili strode through the room up to the window with determination to lean against the railing of the balcony. His tailor groaned and followed after him. "Master Kili," he pleaded, "please, I'm not done yet." But Kili didn't hear it. He looked up at the sun creeping over the rooftops of the city and smiled. It was going to be a beautiful day today, and it was _his_ —his name day. He was officially an adult now. It did not feel that different yet, though he intended to make sure it would hit him during the ball.

From the small bench against one of the walls, Ori watched him in amusement. It was still early, though the man he served had been up since three in the morning, had woken him to talk him back to sleep and when that had worked—for half an hour at most—Ori hadn't been able to fall asleep again, himself. He found it hard to be sleepy today however, when Kili was so joyous that he was practically glowing. "Indulge him," he spoke with amusement to his Master, "it's only a few more pieces of jewelry for your hair."

"How did your name day feel, Ori?" Kili turned with the light a halo around his silhouette. "Was it this exciting? It _is_ exciting. The day is mine, Ori, and people come from all over the realm to congratulate me. From the commanders from the Iron Hills regions to the noblemen of the southern plains. Father invited ladies from every direction for my company. I feel like a king for a day."

"Those ladies are going to be sorely disappointed, I fear," Ori smiled indulgently. "By both your spurning, and the fact that you are fairer than they are."

Ori didn't remember celebrating his own name day. Surely it had passed by now. Or was he younger than Kili? He didn't know. It mattered not. He had no family here to share the day with him. It wouldn't matter. But today mattered. Today was Kili's day; Kili, one of the few people in his life who cared for him. He would make sure the day was special.

\- - - - 

Alone in Thorin's two-room house, Fili slept poorly, jumping at every sound from within and without. Finally, he gave up entirely and got up to paint. He set up his easel and canvas before the fire and began painting Kili from memory. Fili only felt the pull of exhaustion when dawn's light was already beginning to streak the sky and he fell onto his pallet for a few hour's rest before he had to get up and mind Thorin's stall.

When he arrived at the Master's mansion at one o'clock to meet with Ori and pick up his costume, he looked exhausted.

Ori took one look at him and chuckled. "Didn't get much sleep, did you? Nor did I. Come with me. I think that if anyone finds you near the Young Master's chambers, you're going to be in trouble. He wants nobody to know about his costume before the start of the ball." He walked Fili down to different quarters where he hadn't been before. Guest chambers, apparently, for they were lavish and reminded anyone in the room of the splendor of the house, wherever one looked. "There'll be a troupe from the woodland realm performing, and in about an hour in which the guests bring Kili their wishes and gifts. Mainly political, but I guess it means a lot that for once Kili isn't moaning and groaning at the idea. Probably because there'll be presents.

"Following is a banquet. After that, he will change costume. He has two costumes," Ori said to Fili with amusement, like it was only natural for the man to be different from everyone else. "The second one is for the ball, where he will be anonymous. There will be garden fireworks late in the evening, and then it'll go on until nobody can go on any longer. I am sure you could take a small nap now while he receives his gifts, if you'd like."

"That would be...most welcome, Ori," Fili smiled gently, "but even more so, I'd welcome a long hot bath. Can that be arranged?" And he did, indeed, need it. A smear of soot ran across his forehead where he had swiped his hair away with one hand while working. "I cannot go to the ball, nor put on such finery, smelling as I do."

He noticed the dark circles under Ori's eyes. "Let me guess. Kili couldn't sleep, therefore neither could you?"

"Obviously." Ori was also sharing in Kili's thrill though, which made it all fine for the moment. He had no doubt that somewhere around a hideously early time for society’s standards, he would retire and proceed to wake up at a very early hour, compared to most of the guests, as well as Kili himself. If he made it to dinner, that would be a miracle. He led Fili to the baths in the guest chambers and pointed out the towels and the scented oils, before retreating to the main room to wait.

The baths were lavishly made from a milky porcelain and alabaster, and decorated with brushed gold. It was every bit as ridiculously gaudy as was to be expected, and the scents consisted of vanilla, nutmeg, and cinnamon, as well as a deeper musk he couldn't identify, and a fresh mixture of lemon and kingsfoil.

"Before you go," Fili turned to him, "could you slip this onto Kili's pile of gifts?" he handed Ori a small package, tied with twine and wrapped in a clean sheet of canvas. "It's ...well, a preview, I suppose. Just a sketch I made last night. It's just...oh, I don't know. Maybe I should keep it for another time. It'll look out of place among the grand gifts he's sure to receive. I don't want to embarrass him."

Ori laughed and shook his head. "I'm afraid that the gifts only are gifts when given by the person they are from on a day like today. You'd look out of place, being the only one who won't take credit for a gift in front of an audience. You forget these people mean to show off. But what I can do is make sure he finds it in his chambers between his costumes, if you provide me with a note."

"That's a great idea, Ori," Fili handed off the parcel. "And I don't think it'll need a note. He'll know it's from me. I hope," he smiled, eyes darting around the room. "I don't know what to do first. What a grand washroom. I may just skip the party entirely and enjoy the bath."

"Oh, but it's Kili's special day. He would like a note by you, trust me." Ori took a step back and shook his head. "I'll be back for you in twenty minutes. Be decent in twenty minutes, please. I'll leave you to it for now." That said, he slunk back and was gone before Fili had the chance to draw him back.

Only twenty minutes! Fili could have spent hours in this room. He never felt quite clean enough on a day-to-day basis, even in the summers when the lake was tepid enough for swimming or after an hour at the hot springs. 

Thankfully, the deep tub was already filled with steaming water. He needed only to shed his clothing and step in, which he did with a sigh of pleasure. The heat seeped into his body, relaxing away his concerns about the afternoon and evening that lay ahead. While he wanted to clean his body, his biggest concern was for his hair. His mother had always told him it was his crowning glory—his best feature. He hoped Kili would agree when he wore it unbound, clean, fresh and adorned in sparkling clasps.

He scrubbed and rinsed his hair free of the sweet smelling soap he'd found next to the tub, and found himself drifting off to sleep. He awoke with a start only when Ori opened the door.

Quiet feet moved up to stand next to him, before Ori gently scraped his throat. He had a towel at the ready and his eyes averted for Fili's sake, and said, "You should get up now. The reception of the guests is nearly starting, if you'd like to be present for it in costume."

"I'm so sorry, Ori," Fili was pink—whether from the heat or his embarrassment it was hard to tell—and climbed from the tub. "I've been on the run all day. Uncle's last customers of the day came early and I had to hurry to get them taken care of. Coupled with my failure to get any real sleep. Like you, I'll probably be face-down at a table before the night truly gets underway."

He took the towel from Ori and wrapped it around his middle. "Is my costume here, or do I need to put my old clothes back on?" he wondered, looking about.

"No, it's all here, in the main room. Don't worry, everyone else has been appointed other rooms. These will be your chambers for the night, as per the Master's request. So nobody will walk in on you as you change." Stepping back, Ori turned and hoped for Fili to follow him. He walked to the main room and stood next to a large bed, upon which the costume was laid out for him. "I'll be in the room next door," he said. "If there is anything you need, just give me a call."

Once Fili was done, Ori was to get into his own costume and then make it with him to the Great Hall. He felt bad for Fili for not having the time to relax, though he suspected there would be plenty of time for that in the morning. Kili certainly was not going to be fit for sitting for the portrait after festivities like these.

"For the night?" Fili seemed surprised. "That...that's very generous," he remarked. "I'll only be a moment, Ori." He set immediately to toweling dry his hair, hoping it'd be properly dry when it was time to go to the ball. Fili turned to look at the costume, to which Bofur had added countless more details of gold and green beads. Surely it had to rival any costume any nobleman might wear tonight! 

Next to the bed was a pair of shoes, painted gold as well. He gasped. What had he done to deserve this?

"Are you okay?" called Ori from the other room, "Is everything fine?"

"Do you remember that old tale of the young girl who gets a chance to dress in finery and attend the prince's ball?" Fili called out. "I—I feel like that girl in the story. It's...a little overwhelming." 

He smiled. They had even provided him with a fresh pair of braies to wear under the costume. "I'll just need a few moments to get dressed, Ori."

He wasn't sure how Bofur had accomplished such a miracle, but the pants and jerkin fit like a glove and the wings, when he raised his arms, looked magnificent from all angles. He slipped into the soft silk stockings and fine shoes, scarcely believing his good luck. When all that was left was to adorn his hair with his uncle's clasps, he sat down before the mirror and looked at himself, doubting the handsome, well-appointed man that looked back at him.

He was given the time to wind the beads into his hair and fix the last details. It was amazing how all these trinkets did not make him look effeminate, but instead underlined his masculinity, making use of his broad shoulders in the design, like Bofur must have intended. Well, except for perhaps the low heels on his shoes. When he was done, Fili was a changed man.

Ori clapped a hand before his mouth when he saw him. "I can't believe my eyes! A nobleman stands before me. Oh, do be careful the Young Master will recognize you, or he might feel jealous that someone rivals him in radiance. You're not wearing your mask yet. Show me?"

Fili smiled shyly and reached for the mask, which hooked cleverly over his ears from the front and did not in anyway disturb the golden fall of his hair. "Is it too much?" he wondered. "I feel a bit like a preening rooster."

"You're one of the few people there who is worthy of the title. Nobody will recognize you. Even Kili will stop to wonder who you are. But you need a few braids to help temper your hair. Here, let me." The younger sat down next to Fili, tugged him down to his height, and patiently started braiding in two small braids on each side. They were just enough to be there, and not enough to make it look foolish. The result was an incredibly handsome man whom Ori hardly matched with it being Fili. "You'll be the talk of the party, Fili." Sitting back, he admired the work. "Perfect. If only you could draw yourself."

"You could draw me," Fili pulled the mask away from his face, smiling fondly at Ori. "Like you used to. Oh, if only I still had those little pieces of parchment with your scribbles. I...one day they were just all gone. Like you." He reached for Ori's hand. "And here we are again."

Ori flushed. He didn't know how to respond to that, and stammered, "I'll draw you some time, then, but not today. I should be getting changed into my own costume. Originally you were supposed to be deposited in the Great Hall first and then I could change, but I can't leave you alone with these men. We'll—ah, I fear we'll be stuck with each other for the day."

"I think I'd be terrified if you left my side anyway," Fili admitted. "Go, change. I'll walk with you when you're ready."

\- - - - -

Ori turned out to be a red-cloaked man with a mask who looked nothing like the ordinary Ori would. He was almost a wise and scholarly man who demanded respect wherever he went. But then he led Fili to the Great Hall and his body language betrayed him. With shoulders slouching forward and a scurrying step, nobody would be fooled. Ori did not care. It was a great day today, and he got to be a part of it. Most of the other servants were forbidden from getting near the Great Hall, except those who were required for the food and the wine. But here he was.

Large banners hung from the rafters of The Great Hall. Light streamed in through great stained-glass windows, and where there was no natural light, a sea of candles made the space into a fairytale hall. In it gathered a throng the likes of which Fili had never seen before. Each of the noblemen present was more elaborately and extravagantly done up than the previous. They all vied for Kili's attention, or that of the Master, who sat seated on his throne and allowed himself to be amused by the antics of a jester carrying a platter of apples.

Kili was not yet there. Of course he wasn't. "A few more minutes," Ori whispered to Fili. "We're right on time." 

They had barely found a good spot when the doors opened and trumpets drew everyone's attention. Ori was excited about this part. He stood on his toes to watch as down the aisle, Kili came walking in, preceded by a guard and several bannermen, and followed by a gathering of people dressed in similar fashion.

He was the moon. His main costume was blue, with a hint of black and a cloak of raven feathers. His mask was equally finished in darks. Silver ran its course across the costume, outlining his form and the rim of his mask. Behind him, a gorgeous crescent was worked into a halo around his head. Kili was the night, and he paled them all.

When he sat down in his own throne next to his father—who looked like a masked version of himself, really—and removed the mask, everyone broke out in cheers. Kili had the decency to look astonished at that, too.

"Kili was right," Fili whispered softly to Ori. "He looks so very good in blue." Fili felt his heart might leap from his chest. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we wait. Most of these men will present their gifts. I expect a fair share of viable ladies and men his age who seek to present more than just their gifts, now that he may officially court someone. It'll take a while, and it will mostly likely be tedious," Ori smiled knowingly at Fili, "but there is lots of food when they're done. The Young Master looks breathtaking, don't you think? I don't think it's a pain to stand here and watch him handle present after present."

It wasn't painful, but it took some time, despite the Master's personal assistant attempting to speed things along as efficiently as he could. Kili, despite conditions that would have instantly overwhelmed Fili, handled each guest with patience and skill that truly surprised Fili. He found himself unable to stop watching, in fact. He almost—almost—wished he had joined this fine crowd. Surely his gift rivaled theirs. He hoped Kili would like it. Yet, he couldn't be sure. Not yet. 

Watching all these people was fascinating, yet he longed for some wine to take away his nervousness.

The presents turned out to be a never-ending stream of unnecessary pleasantries. There were spices from faraway lands, silks from the South in bright colours, daggers inlaid with enamel and gold, and then there were the many pieces of jewelry inlaid with the most precious gems. 

While the Master showed great interest in those, Kili was instead more pleased by the small things. One boy, a princeling from a neighboring duchy, gave him a bow that he had clearly cut into shape himself. Some of the noblemen snorted, but Kili had taken the bow immediately, laid an arrow on it and notched it with its aim towards the ceiling. He had never let the arrow fly, but he complimented the boy on a fine job and had silenced the rowdy noblemen at the same time.

The gesture warmed Fili’s heart and he felt any doubts he’d ever had about Kili melt away.

It seemed to go on and on, but finally the last man appeared before Kili to offer him a book from the monks of the far mountains, and he clapped his hands for a final speech to demonstrate his gratitude. The Master seemed pleased at his son's sense of responsibility, despite it being a recited speech. Kili smiled and bowed, and the throng of people started moving to the next room, which was nearly as enormous. Long tables were mounted with large plates with venison and berries, bowls of fruit and more different kinds of wine than anyone could imagine.

Kili's eyes kept going over the masked crowd. They looked like they were searching for something, but the look was lost so soon when a man engaged him in conversation that Fili could have imagined it.

"It's so grand," Fili whispered to Ori. He felt a swelling of something akin to awe and respect for Kili's behavior. Admiration, yes. "Someday all of this will be Kili's. But I don't envy him, Ori."

"Nor do I," mused Ori. "I'm just glad to be by his side now, as I hope I will be when he comes into his own." He pointed out a guard by the door, stationed there to keep others out. "That is Mr. Dwalin, head of the guard. He has been in the Young Master's service for a long time now. Started out as just a guard before his chambers, and did his job well. Now he's head of the guard. And there is Balin, the librarian, who would never have been here if the Young Master had not insisted on his presence. He is very fond of him. So many owe things to him, Fili. And that's—"

Ori stopped talking. He knew those two people, just by the way they walked, and their costumes were slightly shoddy. "I—excuse me," he said. "I'll be right back, I promise."

Fili's eyes followed Ori as he crossed the room to talk to the two strangers. But he seemed to just be chatting casually, so Fili didn't concern himself with it. He could easily see Ori doing the work of that odious personal assistant Alfrid, whom the Master favored—and with much more tact and graciousness.

Fili stayed at his position near the wall, a goblet in his hand, watching everyone, memorizing what he was seeing, in hopes of someday using it in his art.

A young lady found him there when Ori was away and moved herself into his view. "Good day," she gracefully extended her hand and offered him a smile, "I don't think we have met. Lady Rhiannon." She looked over to a heavyweight man talking to the Master. "That is my father over there. Which is yours?" Fili couldn't know that Lady Rhiannon was fabled for her beauty, and that many a man stood looking at him with envy right now.

"Milady." Taken aback, he bowed and kissed the back of her hand gently. "I am Fili, of Durin. Sadly my father passed when I was but a lad. Your costume, it's quite becoming," he told her.

She curtseyed for him to show off the details of her yellow dress, though like most of the other ladies, she had done a poor job at making herself anonymous. The purpose was obvious; if she wanted to land a good partner, she needed to make full use of her looks and charms. Lady Rhiannon was already twirling a strand of her soft long hair around her finger. "Durin? Like the line of Durin from the history books, before misfortune befell them and the lands of the Lonely Mountain were lost to them?" She smiled and shook her head. "Probably not, or I fancy you would not be here. But you are, and you have me most intrigued, Master Fili, to find out who is behind that mask. Is it all right if I sit with you at the table?" She was so polite that it was impossible to turn her down.

Fili was too surprised by her knowledge of his family to have time to make up a lie. "I...yes, please do. I wasn't quite aware my family had a history," he admitted, pulling out a chair for her to sit on. "Perhaps the name is just a coincidence. I've only been at court a few days. I'm creating a portrait of the Young Master, you see." His eyes scanned the crowed for Ori, Kili, _anyone._

"Would you like to hear it?" asked the lady helpfully, glad that her usually boring history lessons were helping her keep the attention of such a fine man. That he was a painter and most likely not her father's first choice didn't matter so much. She easily stole a few touches from his hand or his arm as she spoke.

"The line of Durin used to be very powerful. Some say that at one point they were the ruling dynasty, much like the Master is now. But great tragedy befell them in a siege, and nobody has heard from the descendants of the great King Thrain and his heir Thror. Their rule thrived on the smiths and their gold work. Some of them, they say, fled to the Blue Mountains. You don't by chance have relatives in the Blue Mountains, do you?"

Ori joined them again before Fili could answer. He was glowing. "Master Fili. You remember my brothers, don't you?"

Fili stilled at Lady Rhiannon's tale. Surely these rulers of old were of no relation of his. And yet, hadn't Thorin once mentioned that his father's name was Thror? No, there had to be a mistake. "Ori!" he gasped in relief when his friend appeared. "Nori and Dori have come?” he gave the pair a wave. “Why, that's wonderful news. I wasn't sure my message would reach them in time."

"You got them here?" Ori gaped, elated. "I thought surely, Master Kili must have had them come over as a surprise. The journey is expensive, and the guest list...How did you do it?" He was positively thrilled, but he knew that with this change of plans, he would have less time to spend around Fili. Ori felt bad about that, which was why he took interest in Fili's new company and smiled, "I see you've picked out wonderful company for yourself. Lady Rhiannon," he took a bow, "it is a pleasure to meet you."

But at the head table, Kili too had found Fili's new company and, his heart beating in his chest uncomfortably, could not keep his eyes away.

"I only wrote to them," Fili told Ori with a soft smile. "I suppose Kili is responsible for actually allowing them inside. Milady," he turned to Lady Rhiannon, "could you excuse the two of us for a moment? I have a matter I need to speak with this fellow about." Fili stood and offered her yet another kiss to her hand, then beckoned Ori to follow him to a quiet corner.

"Ori," Fili's eyes were dark behind his mark, "are you a student of history?"

The question was unexpected, and Ori frowned at him behind his mask. "Yes, yes, a bit so. I don't have as much time as most do, of course, but I suppose I know a little. What do you need to know?"

"What do you know, if anything, about the line of Durin?" Fili couldn't stop his hands from shaking, so he grabbed two wine goblets from a passing servant and handed one to Ori. The other he downed quickly.

A silence settled between them. It was not as if Ori didn't know what the trouble was—it was how much Fili was willing to hear. He took a deep breath and, not knowing where to start, he decided to jump in at the heart of things. "I suspect your uncle of being a descendant. Very strongly. Oh Fili, you look like you've seen a ghost. Did he never mention anything like it?" Ori smiled awkwardly at Lady Rhiannon for taking so much of their time. When his eyes fell on Kili, he didn't know how fast he could look away. 

"This is madness," Fili's voice was soft. "I...we're here for K—the Young Master. This must wait. It _has_ to. For if it were true," he bit his lip and smiled in Kili's direction, "well, it simply cannot be true. Let us drink some more, my friend, and celebrate your family, my commission and the Young Master's coming of age." He snatched another two goblets and forced a second one into Ori's hand.

Ori didn't see what could be so undesirable about finding out one stemmed from a royal line, though he understood the shock. "I think the Young Master needs your company for a short while," he advised quietly. "If you want to do it right without any offense, you offer the lady to introduce her to him. She will undoubtedly be thrilled, and you could perhaps do something about that scowl on his face by mentioning your present."

"I..." Fili hesitated, then took several long swigs of wine and patted Ori on the shoulder. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll find you later, Ori." 

He turned back to his other companion. "I am terribly sorry to have left you alone, milady. Do you think you might like to make the acquaintance of the Young Master?" he offered her his hand.

She did not say no to that, and rather could not believe her luck. They both gave up their seats in favor of walking up to Kili, who sat surrounded by old men of his father's age bestowing him with compliments. It was obviously political in nature, for they were talking and talking and Kili looked like he was begging for someone to release him from their company.

When Fili came near, he pushed himself out of his seat at once. "I'll be back shortly!" he told his company and his teeth-gritting father, and latched onto Fili before he had been able to speak a single word.

Kili knew it wasn't particularly courteous what he did next, but he bowed to Lady Rhiannon, kissed the back of her hand, then asked her if she could give them some time.

"Fili," he grinned as soon as they were alone, with many eyes on them. "You look stunning. I only knew because Ori was next to you, talking to you. Thank goodness you're saving me from that horrible conversation. Trust dad to make even my name day a political affair. Well, never mind now. You're here."

Kili looked him up and down. Oh, he liked the costume. Fili's hair was appealingly loosened and braided for decorum, which was a welcome improvement on the usual knot or tail. And the colors really suited him. While his lady company stood behind them, forgotten, Kili grinned stupidly happily at Fili. "Sit with me?"

"Is that wise?" Fili wondered. "I doubt your father would approve of me monopolizing your time—especially on your name day." His eyes also flitted to Lady Rhiannon, who looked more than a bit put off by Kili's snub. "The lady..."

"You want the lady's company?" Kili asked him with a slight edge to his words. There was a hidden question there, one with a favorable answer but also uncertainty. "I promised to introduce you to people, and she can sit on your other side if you'd like her to. Please, just give me a distraction from father's friends. They're dreadful, and they keep trying to get my opinion on things I have no opinion about. It's _my_ name day, for crying out loud."

"Is there protocol you need to follow?" Fili wondered. What he didn't voice aloud was _Will your father get angry with you if you spend too much time with me?_ "I would prefer not to upset the Master."

Kili thought that despite it being _his_ day, there were still far too many rules. "Ten minutes?" he asked. "And maybe more later. Father can just—" He made a frustrated gesture. Fili was on the top of his list of people to spend time with, but Fili was quickly replacing him with Ori and a beautiful lady who gave him more attention than he could, himself.

"I _want_ to, Young Master," Fili smiled softly, "spend time with you. But not if doing so will earn your father's scorn. I have yet to complete your portrait, so I'm nothing more than a street rat to him. Ten minutes."

"Yes, and you know what?" Kili leaned forward, before whispering in his ear, "Nobody is going to be able to tell you are if you don't tell them. You look like you fit in, and you have one of the most sought after ladies interested in you. So indulge me, for I want more time with you than she gets." He smiled at Lady Rhiannon and included her again in the company. "Did he tell you who he is yet?"

"Your painter, isn't he?" she smiled coyly. "You picked a handsome one."

"I know," Kili grinned. "My apologies for claiming his time, my lady. You see, I promised to introduce him to people. Perhaps you could help him with your father?"

"Milady," Fili chuckled, "you are most optimistic. I could be hideously disfigured under this mask." 

He was still trembling from the feeling of Kili's warm breath on the shell of his ear. 

She laughed. "Oh, I refuse to believe you are." Extending her arm, she waited for Fili to hook his around her, so she could lead them to her father. Many of the women present looked at her in envy. When Kili did not look, she leaned closer herself to entrust to him, "Though I do hope I get to see your face today. You have me most piqued."

Fili took her arm, eyes searching nervously for Kili's, and allowed her to lead him away. "Tell me, Lady Rhiannon, what does your father do?"

Kili soon came up on his other side. While he didn't take Fili's free arm—Kili wanted to—he did follow them with a smile on his lips and allowed Lady Rhiannon to claim the attention she was due. He was planning on stealing Fili away from her the first chance he got.

"He's a merchant," she said. "Mostly spices and fabrics. He has in fact been looking for something like a portrait. And it would mean I'd get to see you more often." Her eyes met Fili's. "So tell me what I have to do to convince him."

Kili suppressed a choke. Oh, she was more shrewd than him.

"I guess the most important thing you could do is see my work," Fili smiled. "You certainly couldn't recommend it sight unseen, could you? Sadly, I haven't brought any of my materials with me to the ball. But," he looked at their surroundings quickly to see if some paper and ink or charcoal were available, "I could certainly do an impromptu sketch of anyone here."

"Mine?" wondered Kili. He was already searching out Ori, who would know where to find materials quickest, and could bring them. "Or the Lady Rhiannon? Since it's your father you have to be convincing." He let his hand rest a second too long on Fili's waist, before parting from them.

It took Ori five minutes to return with sketch material, minutes in which the lady at Fili's side took her time to introduce him to some of her many lady friends. She all but draped herself against his arm, giggling at anything he said that could be considered slightly funny.

As Ori set up some materials for Fili, a bit of a crowd gathered. Fili wanted nothing more than to crawl back into that warm bath and curl up in a ball, alone. Instead, he was to be a spectacle.

"Lady Rhiannon," he gestured grandly with his hand, "if you'd be so kind as to sit in this chair, I shall endeavor to capture your beauty."

Fili wished he had eaten a bit to tamper the wine in his belly. He accepted a bit of charcoal from Ori, squeezing Ori's hand anxiously as he did so. 

He need not have worried. As soon as the charcoal met the paper, Fili was lost in his drawing. In no less than fifteen minutes, he had rendered a perfectly-shaded charcoal image of the Lady—a perfect likeness of the lovely girl. "Come, see," he offered her his hand and guided her around in front of the work, embarrassed by the applause.

The girl clapped her hands before her mouth when she saw the portrait. She all but jumped Fili when she wrapped her arms firmly around her neck, then detached to take up the sketch like it was made of gold and offered it to her father to see. All the while her eyes were on Fili.

Ori nudged Fili to get his attention when all eyes were on her and the sketch. "Do you like her?" he whispered to him. "If you aren't serious about her, it might be a good time to kindly take your leave. This is not about the sketch anymore. That girl is presenting you to her father. She dotes on you. I can help, if you need me to?" Because Fili looked in over his head in this new environment.

"Please, Ori," Fili begged. "She seems quite nice, but...I...I'd like it very much if you could help me escape her."

A nod, and Ori stepped back. He allowed the lady a minute longer, before he stepped forward and played humble. "Master Fili? Seeing what you can do, I was wondering, I'd very much like to have you draw my family portrait. Could I have a minute of your time?" He looked over at Nori and Dori, who were waiting for him. "I'm sure the Lady Rhiannon wouldn't mind sharing your ability with others?" He eyed her expectantly.

It would not to for her to decline in front of so many people, so reluctantly she inclined her head. "Will I see you again tonight, Master Fili?" she asked. "If not, I would very much like to see you, so I may recognize you later."

"Your beauty shines like the sun, milady," Fili bowed to her to take his leave. "I shall have little trouble finding you again."

He turned to Ori. "I will be forever in your debt. I hadn't expected to come away from this ball with female admirers." To be honest, he was eager to see Ori interacting with his siblings. "That portrait you suggested—of your family—I think that's a wonderful idea."

Platter upon platter of savory looking food was brought forward by crisp servants in matching attire. Fruits, meats, cheeses and a number of exotic creations Fili had never seen before. The display dazzled the eyes.

Kili, the center of attention, was gracious, smiling—every bit the Young Master he was required to be. And yet, Fili still wasn't sure if he was envious or if he felt sorry for him. All he could think about was the thrill that had coursed through his body the day before in the observation tower. He wanted Kili to turn his threats of debauchery into promises. He wanted it more than he could fathom.

As he slaked his appetite on rich foods and spent time catching up with Ori's family, Fili began to relax. 

Dori continued to pour him different wines to sample. The versatility of wines present was a feast to him, and Ori's brother had openly vowed to have a taste of at least every one of them once, much to Ori's despair. Soon Dori had begun to feel tipsy and started offering Fili those wines that he decided needed to be shared. And the first five times, he had been so adamant that even Ori had not been able to get the idea out of his mind that Fili had to have a taste.

Nori on the other hand kept ogling the silverware and polishing it, as if checking its quality. Ori took his spoon from him when he suddenly had one more than he was supposed to have, and Nori's other neighbor could not find his own. "Stop it," he muttered. "Behave, the both of you. You're embarrassing me in front of the Young Master. He was generous enough to bring you here."

And so the rest of the banquet passed with Fili being taken along into the tumultuous lives of Ori and his brothers, far away from Kili. Dessert was served—a rich vanilla pudding with red fruits and small bites of honey, dough and nuts that had a peculiar name but which were mostly remembered by the guests for their incredible sweetness. On the other side of the hall, a creamy, sweet coffee was served, and on the south, there was ice cream. Then there were the numerous smaller desserts that nobody knew how to name. Anything the guests could imagine was there. Which was why nobody noticed Kili when he disappeared to his own chambers, all except for one.

Ori excused himself. "I'm sorry, I have to be somewhere now. I'll be back as soon as I can. Dori," and he manhandled his brother on Fili's other side, "make sure nobody distracts our guest." And off he was. The tables were moved aside by servants, the desserts and wines remaining, and bit by bit the main floor made way for a ballroom, or rather, a part thereof. Doors opened on three sides of the hall, extending the space considerably. Yet for all the extra space, it seemed like the crowd never got any thinner.

Ori was back half an hour later. He was panting upon his arrival, grinning. "Wait until they see his costume. It looks magnificent."

There was an announcement for everyone to put on their masks then, but no trumpets heralding Kili's return. Instead the music picked up and people started talking, and nobody waited longer for the Young Master.

Fili had had far too much to drink. He rarely drank at all, and then, only ale. His head spun a bit, despite the food in his belly to soak it up.

"A second costume?" he marveled to Ori. "I can't wait to see it. Where _is_ he?"

"He'll find you, knowing him," Ori allowed mysteriously. "I promised not to tell anyone, especially not you. See if you can figure out who he is. I'll give you a hint, he's here among the others already." Kili had obviously reached the part of the night that he'd been looking forward to most, and Ori knew what that meant. But he had his brothers, whom he hadn't seen for ages, and he was going to enjoy the night regardless of what would pass between his childhood friend and his Master. "Go on, get out there. You'll not find him if you stick around with us."

A slow smile spread across Fili's face. It was to be yet another game of pursuit. "Very well," he purred. "I will find him. But, I do feel at a disadvantage. He already knows what I'm wearing." Fili patted Ori's hand and said his goodbyes to Nori and Dori, neither of whom paid much attention, and set off across the ballroom to search for Kili.


	7. Silver Sand and Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili leads a very willing Fili to his private chambers during the masquerade ball. 
> 
> This chapter will bump our rating up to Explicit. Enjoy!

Four halls, adjoined by great open doors, and further complicated by them not being square but having corners as well, did not make the challenge easy. There were times when Fili nearly ran into Lady Rhiannon, or her father, or any of the women who had looked so jealous at her and his attention for her. Everyone was masked. That made it nearly impossible to tell who was Kili and who was not unless he looked at body type and bearing, and then still.

From the shadowy corners of one room, Kili watched and followed him. He was always there, not too far from him to see, if only Fili would look. Few people tried to initiate a conversation with him because they did not know him like this. His mask covered his face entirely, and his hair was done in braids that matched Fili's. Kili, as the heir to the throne, never wore braids. He pushed closer when Fili took his distance. The coins along his valkyrie costume rattled at every step. Gold thread was spun into his hair and gold pigment had been used to line his eyes behind the mask, but everything else about the costume was daunting. Kili wore gorgeously enameled chest armor, followed by a flowing long skirt of a blood red, and his armor was fastened with leather everywhere. His sandals were laced up and reached just above his knees. Then there was the helmet, which ran pointedly before his mask like a raven's closed beak. It was no wonder none of the nobility was eager to talk to a man who was dressed like an exotic but dangerous soldier.

Now if only Fili understood that that was the point.

Fili was beginning to think Ori was having one over on him, and that Kili had yet to make his grand entrance. Then, he began to look around more carefully, eyes going to those costumes he'd overlooked initially...gaudy, gold...skirts... _ah!_

And then he found Kili. His dark eyes and hair were unmistakable to Fili, who had spent so much time in the past few days studying them. Kili looked dark and predatory as he slowly moved through the crowd, surveying. 

Fili found a spot he preferred, a bit away from the rest of the crowd, and latched his eyes on Kili, so the Young Master would know he'd been discovered. _Come to me, Kili_ he beckoned with crooked finger.

Kili looked right back at him, but disappeared behind the people. For a while Fili lost sight of him. These were the halls in which Kili had grown up. A wealth of childhood stealth had him turn up behind Fili and whisper in his ear, "I've been watching you all day." And just as tantalizingly, Kili was gone again. A door leading away from the ballrooms creaked open, and vanishing footsteps lured him further away from the others.

Fili gave a chuckle. "Blast!" he muttered when Kili got the drop on him and snuck away down what appeared to be a secret passageway. Thankfully, Fili noticed the nearly imperceptible doorway just about to close where Kili had vanished. He found no one paying attention to him after a quick survey, so he slipped into the small entrance behind the Young Master.

It was a chilly there, between walls. "Kili?" he whispered. Down the narrow hallway ahead of him, a candle bobbed. Fili hurried to keep up, lest he lose his only source of light.

Kili was always a step ahead. Oh, but he longed to stop there and round up on Fili here where none would find them, but there was a candle he didn't want to see diminish, and there was something much better waiting just up ahead. Kili's heart was pounding in his chest. It had been a long time since he had been here—since a potential lover had indulged his childhood adventures in a way more befitting of an adult.

He was an adult now. And with that would most likely come great responsibilities, but for now all that mattered was that nobody would tell him off for not being there when the ball ended. His breath came in puffs when he pushed his weight against a seemingly normal expanse of wall and the wall gave way to an exit. Past staircases his feet carried him, always mindful of hearing the accompanying pair that meant he was still being followed, up and further into the castle. He stopped before his own doors, pushed past them and left them slightly ajar.

As soon as Fili came inside, Kili stepped forward from the shadows and closed them behind him. He leaned against the heavy oak. "So here you are."

"You devil," Fili slipped off his mask, kohl-lined eyes flashing. "You would have had me lost, wandering in the dark." He stalked towards Kili. "Or devoured whole by Lady Rhiannon!"

"Never." Kili tore off his own helmet and mask. "There's only one person who gets to devour you whole, painter of mine, and it'll be me." He crossed the last distance, paused just before Fili to breathe him in—wine, not enough to be impeding, the lemony oils from the guest baths, and distinctly underneath was Fili's own scent—and breathed with half-lidded eyes, "You have done this before?"

There was no time for Fili to respond. Kili pushed his mouth against his, tangled his hands through hair where it wasn't braided, and pulled him against him. Ever nerve in his body was on fire for this man. If Kili were sober of thought, he would have taken notice of everything being much more intense than it usually was, but he was getting drunk on Fili's presence and wanted so much that there was little space for rational thought. "How far are you willing to take this?"

"As far as you are," Fili's eyes searched his face, gasping, "provided that's very, very...far."

His hand slid up Kili's armored chest, struggling to find a hook or button to release to give access to the treasure beneath it. "Does this breastplate have a key?" he smiled, "or must I pry it open with my very teeth?"

"Please don't," Kili grinned, "I need those teeth of yours to be whole later." He moved Fili's hand to the leather straps that kept the front and back piece together. While the straps were undone, he fiddled lazily with Fili's hair. "You should do this more often. It looks good on you." Good being incredibly hot, he supplied for himself.

The metal of the breastplate fell on the floor with a clang that startled both of them. Underneath, Kili wore a leather shirt that came off quickly, pushed the straps of his sandals down to his ankles and then only veils and strings of large black beads around his neck remained. The cool that hit him had no impact on Kili. "Come here." He stepped forward, pushed Fili back, further back, and backed him up against the nearest table, where he kissed him again, but sensually this time. He took the time to nip at his lips, to slide his hand up Fili's neck and into his golden hair, then brought one hand forward to his ear, canted his head, and licked into Fili's mouth. A groan shuddered through Kili unexpectedly. He wanted this. Anything Fili needed of him, he would give it willingly.

"Gods," Fili murmured, his hands slipping up Kili's abs to his chest and shoulders. At last, he was able to plunge his hands into Kili's hair. "I've wanted to touch your hair since that very first day you sat for me," he admitted.

He leaned forward, scenting Kili along the neck and up into his hairline. "You smell like a handsome prince who's come of age," he smiled, parting his legs to pull Kili closer against him and nibbling the underside of Kili's jaw. "What, I wonder, could I possibly give to you to commemorate such an important, auspicious day?"

Kili nearly growled. "Help me unwrap my present." He tugged on Fili's elaborate and expensive tunic. The only thing keeping him from just ripping it off was the assumption that Fili was going to either feel bad about it or consider him spoiled with no regard for other people's things, or both.

The Young Master let his head fall back at the assault of Fili's kisses. He was rock hard already—what was _happening_ to him? Normally—no, this had no right to be compared to normally. Kili dragged Fili back from the table suddenly and moved back until falling back on his own bed and twirling fingers through the chain around his neck while his chest rose and fell.

Fili began unbuttoning his tunic, his eyes lingering on Kili's long, slim fingers as they toyed with the beads around his neck. Unconsciously, he licked his lips. "Something happened tonight," he confessed to Kili. "Prior to tonight, I will admit that I found you attractive—attractive enough that I would have taken you up on any offer to be with you." Fili placed his tunic with its elaborate wings carefully aside and came to Kili on the bed. "And then, you did it," he sat down next to Kili, one hand on the jut of Kili's hip. "You did something that melted that last bit of ice on my heart."

And Kili had no idea what it was. He arched a brow quizzically, but he was honest with himself; he was more interested in the touch of Fili's hands than in knowing what he had done to earn it. Reaching up, he gently pulled the man down on top of him and kissed him lazily. Kili took his time, which was rare for him. His body certainly urged him to go faster, before he fell apart embarrassingly fast later.

Stretching beneath Fili, the other man never knew what was coming before Kili used his weight and momentum to flip them around. Hands trailed over a naked chest, pressing him gently into silk sheets. They were burgundy for a purpose; Kili wanted to tell Fili that he would not have had anyone else in his bed on his Name Day. He slid a thumb across Fili's lips, breathed in, and sighed out. Then he skillfully pushed his hips down against Fili's hardness.

Fili drew the digit into his mouth to muffle the rising groan resulting from the pressure where their arousals touched. Eagerly, his tongue swept to engulf and lave Kili's thumb with hot pressure. Fili's left hand curled in the soft, unfamiliar material beneath him and his right cupped Kili's tight little rump through the flimsy material of his flowing costume.

Fill pulled off with an obscene, wet slurp. "What do you want, Kili? What do you want me to do to you?"

"Too many things that fit one round." Kili was quickly becoming breathless as he allowed his finger to disappear between Fili's lips. When it was too much, he delved in and kissed the painter until Kili was thoroughly sated. There had been countless men before Fili, but there was something about him that made Kili want everything from him, yet there was also that intangible something that made him want it tonight, for he might not get another chance. His hips pushed down in a slow rhythm. Kili's body was begging for there to be no more cloth between them, to have that pressure skin to skin. "Undress me first."

"Yes," Fili smiled, sitting up a bit and reaching for the lacings on Kili's veils. "I'm aching to know what's under here." First he took Kili's hand in his and kissed it, studying it momentarily. He held his own up against it. "Our hands are so similar," he remarked. Certainly, Fili's were rougher and calloused from holding a brush and helping Thorin. But, despite the textures, their hands were remarkably the same size, fingers lining up exactly. The middle fingers even bent near the tip in the same direction.

Fili didn't have time to dwell on this, however, as Kili grasped his hand and lay it over the lacings with purpose. Fili undid them readily.

As soon as the veils came off, Kili was quick to move to the last clasps of his sandals. He didn't fancy wearing nothing but his shoes, preferring to be barefoot wherever he went. He still kept the cloth between them until the leather straps of the sandals were loosened, and then lay back down on the bed for Fili to rid him of everything.

Being naked had never been that special, but it made him vulnerable and giddy now. Kili only allowed Fili seconds to look over his naked form, with his less than perfect physique compared to Fili's own, for Kili had never been forced to do labor. He knew he still looked incredibly appealing despite it. Then he started undoing all of Fili's redundant garments. "Out," he whispered. "Want to see you, Fee." Kili was startled at the sudden nickname, but it rolled off his tongue perfectly, and he tested it again. "Fee."

Oh, that was splendid.

"Can I touch you?"

"If you don't," Fili reached for the laces on his braies and undid them slowly, eyes on Kili's, "I may die."

"Can't have that," breathed the Young Master. He took over where Fili was too slow for his taste. Kili burned with need under him. He snuck a hand between them as soon as he could reach for naked skin, and licked his lips when he found a firm cock, not too long but making up for that in girth.

Although he loved watching his bed partner, his eyes fluttered shut in bliss. "That'll be inside me." He called himself a good judge on matters like these, and it was pretty sure that Fili had little to no experience in the field. Kili found it titillating.

"As you wish, Young Master," Fili groaned and his toes curled when Kili expertly fisted him, testing the weight in his palm. No one had ever touched him with such surety. He never even touched _himself_ with such conviction. "Will it hurt you?"

" _Kili._ " Kili was serious about that. He did not right now wish to be reminded of his background, and certainly not the title. "I have lotions. As long as you stretch me, I'll be fine." Fili most certainly had never stretched anyone, so Kili offered him a gentle smile that he hoped calmed any nerves while his thumb nudged the glans, and said, "That sounds so serious. It's more like playing. Want me to show you?" He quite liked the idea of fingering Fili.

Fili immediately flushed. "You w-want to put..." his voice quavered, only because he was intrigued and embarrassed by that. "I...yes. Show me, Kili. It sounds to me like it might be a messy process. I rather like getting my hands dirty," he grinned in hopes of increasing his bravado.

He was pulled down and his obvious nervousness smothered with a kiss. Based on Fili's responses, Kili was now pretty sure that he had not done this before. At all. Sure, he would have touched himself, but that would be the extent of it. Kili had so much to teach him. All the presents in the ballroom down the stairs paled in comparison.

A quick maneuver had him above Fili again. Kili held his gaze for a very long time and moved down when he thought it was okay. His hot breath whispered of promise against Fili's manhood. A quick check at his face—still okay? And while Kili continued to keep his eyes on Fili, he took hold of him and gave the shaft a long, moist lick.

"My god," Fili tense, hands flying immediately to Kili's dark hair. "You can't put your mouth on me _there,_ " he lamented. "It's dirty...and you're...you're the son of the Master. I have heard of it being done, of course. By prostitutes. But, Kili...you are special."

The laugh that followed his exclamation was one of wonder. How could such an exquisite and yet so inexperienced creature still exist? Kili shook his head and kissed the flat of his abdomen. "You think this is only done by prostitutes? Oh no, that would be such a waste. You taste so good, Fee. There's nothing dirty about it. Besides," and he took another chance lick, "there are far dirtier things I want to do to you before this night is over." That said, he engulfed the tip with his mouth.

Any concerns Fili might have had about the act Kili was performing and its propriety melted away as his tongue explored and his cheeks cajoled whimpers and moans of pleasure out of him. He felt like such a country bumpkin compared to Kili's expertise. 

Passion—sex—was catch-as-catch-can in Fili's world. More often than not, when two people found themselves willing and randy, they weren't terribly clean or hygienic. There was a lot of improvisation, sins overlooked and clothing left on. 

It was nothing like _this._

The lack of verbal reply suited Kili just fine. He reached for one of the oils, hidden in a small cherry wood box under the bed, and missed Fili's cock the moment he unlatched from it. Kili could continue this for hours, listening to the surprised gasps and moans he extracted, but they wouldn't have hours. Too much stimulation, and Fili would be done for within five minutes.

Kili uncorked the small emerald bottle inlaid with gold filigree. He didn't doubt that Fili understood the need for lubricants, yet he was planning on having a little fun with it first. "Close your eyes," he bade. As soon as Fili did, he coated one hand generously, put the bottle away, and wrapped that hand around Fili's cock, picking up a slow pace that he knew to be a nearly torturous tease. "How is this?"

There was a bath to be readied for them later, so Kili didn't worry about spilling oil anywhere. In the mean time, he meant to sully the other properly.

Eyes dazzled by the beautiful bottle and the sheen of the oil on Kili's elegant fingers, Fili didn't want to close his eyes. But he wanted Kili to have whatever he wanted for his birthday, and if that involved feeling the pleasure he was feeling right now—well, that was a nice bonus.

"You're very, _very_ good as this, Kili," Fili murmured. "A master."

Kili deducted that Fili liked it then. He hadn't been fishing for compliments. All Kili wanted to know was whether he could improve on it, whether Fili liked what he was doing and was not having second thoughts. He continued at the same pace, taking his own sweet time.

Eventually Kili's dry hand took over. He used the warm oil to continue his ministrations, but his free hand, still glossy with oil, now ventured lower. Fili looked so beautifully lost to the touch. Kili wanted to possess that, wanted to own him completely and deliver him that experience that was going to be impossible to beat by others in the future. Kili momentarily frowned. Fili with others sounded logical, but any combination with other men that his imagination came up with was immediately flagged as wrong. Shaking it off, he licked his lips, increased the simulation with one hand, before starting to circle the pucker under his other fingers carefully. Kili glanced up at Fili.

It was evident by Fili's expression that he was battling internally, pleasure versus propriety. No one, besides himself—and his mother as a wee lad—had ever touched him _there._ Who would want to? And yet it felt very, very good. And he wanted to do this to Kili eventually. He wanted to kiss him all over, hear the noises he'd make, see where the sweat would pool and his skin would—

His thoughts were interrupted when Kili inserted the tip of his finger and his eyes shot open. Once he got over the surprise, he smiled. "Don't stop, Kili."

"It'll feel weird for a little bit," Kili said as he found himself transfixed by his finger gaining entrance. He made sure to keep giving him pleasure in slow strokes and sighed in fascination when he was far enough in. He couldn't help it, he let go of Fili's cock to give his own some sorely needed attention. Kili wiggled the finger. "Are you okay? You look _so inviting._ It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No, it doesn't hurt at all," Fili admitted, "but it feels very, very strange. I like it, Kili." He raised his hand to caress Kili's bronze cheek. "I look forward to trying, with you."

Though Fili's response was comforting—no pain or discomfort, it said—his response was too reserved for Kili's liking. By now he wanted to have him scrambling back or tentatively pushing forward. "You'll get to," he nodded, sliding the finger out to have it push back in, and leaning over him to give his cock more attention with his mouth. Kili had to let go of himself to keep his weight balanced, but it was worth it. "But I believe I want to show you everything first. You haven't done this before. Can I take care of that?" He crooked his finger and prodded until he found what he was looking for, that sweet spot that had many garbling for words, himself included. At the same time, he took Fili's cock fully into his mouth and let the unexpected groan reverberate against hot flesh.

Fili was doing what he thought was a good job at hiding his nervousness. He had felt certain that he and Kili would be kissing, touching...but he'd never quite imagined _this._ He should have.

Oh, but Kili was good at this. Clearly, he had had time and partners enough to perfect the craft. As the finger began to delve more deeply, Fili started to wonder if he needed to worry about...but then all rational thought ceased when Kili's slowly probing digit hit a spot inside of him. Fili felt as if the hand of God had reached down and tapped directly on his soul.

His hips leapt up on their own accord and he let out a distressed cry. "Kili!" he hands grabbed fistfuls of sheet. "What did you do?"

Kili laughed around the cock filling his mouth. He had to suppress his reflexes when Fili just thrust forward like that. He gave him only a moment before touching him there again more gently. Slowly he rose and let the cock bob back against Fili's abdomen. His smile was a mixture between dreamy and devious. "You like that, don't you?"

To be safe that Fili didn't come before he bore entrance to Kili, that sweet spot wasn't touched again. Instead Kili pulled the one finger nearly out. He pressed back in with one added. "That's a little spot every man has. When you touch it... _ah._ " Kili peppered kisses over Fili's stomach. "Not too much though. I am dying to be in you. How are you? Okay?" He knew by the resistance he met that two fingers inside had to be at least slightly painful, so he kept them still until Fili's response.

"Are you going to do it again?" Fili's eyes showed concern. "I almost," he bit his lip, "I almost had release. I'm afraid if you do, I might not be hard for you. And, Kili, I want you to have me. Want to fuck you, if that's what you'd like. But if you touch that spot in me again," he groaned, "I cannot be responsible for what happens. You must let me try you."

The unexpectedly coarse language shot straight to Kili's groin. "After," he shook his head, with hair brushing over Fili's naked chest. "I want you first. God, Fili, you have no idea how hot you are, have you? Especially when you say it like that." Gone was the hierarchy between them that established Kili as heir to the duchy and Fili as a lowly painter from a poor family, and gone were all those other men that Kili had once shared his bed with. They didn't matter to him now. The world fell away around him as he started moving his fingers inside and listened to the defiled sounds that spilled reluctantly from this man under him.

At last Kili couldn't hold himself any longer. He badly needed physical attention that he wasn't getting. It was about time he took it for himself. The fingers pulled away, and Kili slowly lined up. "This'll hurt," he whispered apologetically—where he wasn't incredibly turned on by that same thought. "Tell me if it's too much. It'll get better." Kili moved to slot his mouth on Fili's, kissing him for distraction as he wedged himself in, but he pulled away from the kiss halfway in when the sensations became overwhelming. Kili looked down through lidded eyes. His breath was heavy, but he smiled at Fili. 

Fili ran his hand down the soft skin of Kili's back, hand settling on Kili's firm ass. He didn't want to be tense for what was to come. He wanted Kili like he wanted air, but everything in his obstinate nature was telling him to force his body to expel this intruder, no matter how welcome.

He closed his eyes and took several long, slow, deep breaths. "I do want you, Kili. Want this," he gasped, accidentally clamping down again and causing them both undue pain. "It's just so... _different,_ " he tried, with one word, to sum up everything he was feeling. And the word paled in comparison. 

Slowly, hands touching Kili all over, and mouth gasping hot breathy moans onto Kili's shoulder, he allowed Kili to become fully seated inside him. Now they were as close as two people could possibly be.

Spasms around him had Kili panting from only staying where he was. He kissed Fili everywhere within his reach, licked into his mouth and nibbled on his earlobe. They weren't doing anything yet—there was no friction between men who tried to get used to their physical union—but it was amazing. "Different," he chuckled breathily, "yes, it's—oh, God, it's—you feel _so_ good. Wait till you get to be in me. You'll see." He carefully tried pulling back, but stilled again and patiently tried again half a minute later. 

They were both out of breath like teenagers when Kili snuck a hand between their bodies and touched Fili's cock, waited for his distraction, then moved back to push back in. The pace was torturously slow. Even so, several moans that sounded suspiciously like whimpers spilled from Kili.

Kili opened his eyes to find Fili studying his face, as if trying to memorize it. "This is a look I like on you," the blond said finally, "for you are truly undone." He grabbed Kili's face in both hands, pulling him down for a kiss, and wrapped both legs around the Young Master, giving him permission to do what he wanted. 

Their kiss was frenzied and a battle for dominance. Kili registered the words, but he made a mental note to remind himself later, because they meant nothing to him now. Not when his body urged him to move, to thrust in without a care for Fili's well-being. Kili cared though, and so he forced himself to go slow, which made everything more sensitive.

Downstairs, the party in honor of his Name Day continued. Up here, in their sanctuary away from it all, it was nobody but them. People might wonder where they had gone off to; the door was firmly shut from the inside to protect against those curious few. And it was a good thing, too, for the sound that tore from Kili's throat when he surrendered to his needs and pushed Fili's knees further up against his body before he thrust in was guttural and in no way befitting of nobility.

"That's—oh, that's—" Nothing intelligible came, only kisses when their mouths were close enough and the slapping of skin against skin. Kili couldn't help it. He angled himself differently and did his utmost best to hit Fili in that spot that had him nearly coming before.

At the jolt of dragging pleasure, Fili's nails dug involuntarily into Kili's back, marking skin without regret. "More," he gasped. "Please, Kili, _more!_ " He pulled Kili's head to one side and sucked a deep, purposeful mark into the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

As it turned out, Fili was a quick student. Kili complied eagerly to his request. He laughed with the breath he had left, ended it short with a gasp, and managed, "Your wish is my command." His pounding became relentless in their pursuit of more pleasure. Occasionally he tilted his hips just so, missing his aim more often than he didn't, but he didn't care. The longer Fili could keep up with this, the better. But Kili needed him to come before he would, himself, if only to feel that blissful constriction around him—to have Fili feel that, too. Sheets were slipping beneath them when he tried to get purchase to push deeper, and the bed had started to creak. Kili loved every second of it. He pushed Fili's hips up and thrust in, moving his hand in unison around his cock. "Come for me," he whispered against his ear. "Let me be the one to make you fall apart."

Kili's voice, velvety with lust, burned the shell of Fili's ear. He hadn't wanted to cry out, but by now he was well past caring about what was proper. "Oh god," he moaned in time with Kili's gyrations, hands grasping and slipping on sweat slicked skin. "Oh god, oh god, Kili!" With a final groan, he bore down in orgasm, clinging to Kili's body and clamping down on his dick. For a moment all was still, and then his body wrung out its fluids and pleasure, and Fili could breathe once more.

"Yes!" groaned Kili in ecstasy. His rhythm degraded into a rut, but he didn't need much more than the sound and sensations of Fili coming to help him forward. Twice more, and quite by accident, he hit Fili's sweet spot. Then his body tensed and he bit down hard around his own orgasm with his mouth latched onto Fili's chest. "Yes! Oh God, yes!" 

Where seconds before his mind had been swimming with doing this again, and again, Kili felt limbless and fully sated soon upon losing his control. He didn't pull out but used their positions to engage Fili in a sloppy kiss. All the while he couldn't suppress the laugh. It was beautiful—absolutely beautiful in a way that sex hadn't been for a long while. "You okay?" he asked again.

"I have never truly lived until now," Fili told him. Eyes shining solemnly, he kissed him on the forehead. "I feel as if my entire life was just a prelude to this moment, Kili. As if I were destined to find you. To be with you. I won't embarrass you and ask if you feel the same way. I'm only a painter, a commoner. But, tonight I was...something more."

Kili's eyes searched his for a long time. Tonight _was_ something more. If Kili could rate it, he would rate it among the stars. But then there was that other thing. "I've never pledged myself to someone," he admitted almost with embarrassment. "And father..." Oh, he didn't want to be thinking of any of these things. Father would disapprove. The unfortunate truth was that he was supposed to marry a lady worthy of his title and produce an heir. Kili faltered. "You're...amazing. You are. I would give you everything. I would call you mine." 

If only he could.

Fili bit his lip and answered very carefully. "I am a man of many varied talents, Kili, but having a baby is not one of them. I understand. You could never, ever pledge yourself to me—even if I were a wealthy nobleman. You are required to carry on the line, to align yourself with a woman of consequence. I simply don't fit the criteria. I wish that I did. I truly do, Kili." He smiled softly, and pulled Kili's head to his chest. "But I knew this, going in. I am a willing participant in this, Kili. And I'm honored that you chose me as the person you wanted to be so intimate with, on this very special day."

"Would that you could carry a child," Kili joked with a lightness that was laced with melancholy. He kissed his brow and then his nose, ending with a gentle nip at his lips. "You should know that this was not what I expected. I mean, it was what I hoped, but it was...more, if that makes sense?" He grinned and pushed in once more, eliciting a groan from both of them before he accidentally slipped out. If the sheets weren't soiled before, they were soiled now. Kili nonetheless didn't notice. "It might be years before my father picks out anyone for me. We've got time to do this many more times." He wiggled his brows suggestively. But all Kili really wanted was to be on equal footing with this man and learn all there was to know about him. He had forgotten about the ball entirely.

"We will spend more time together, of course," Fili assured him. "I've yet to finish your portrait, and I could easily find a way to make that project stretch out a bit," he grinned, flushing, "especially since the Master has yet to approve any of my work. But, Kili, shouldn't you return to your party? Won't the Master come looking for you?"

Kili burrowed his face against Fili's chest and groaned. "If he comes looking, then let him. The door is locked anyway. Can't we take a bath first? Then after that we can go back, but only if I get to take you up here again later. Or your quarters. I'm not picky."

"Yes. Yes, to both. To all," Fili smiled. Already Kili's body was calling out to him to touch and kiss. "I'm going to be sore, aren't I? But it's a good kind of sore," he amended.

"A little bit, yes. If it makes you feel any better, you have to do your best to get me equally bow-legged." Kili sat up and extended a hand. He was tempted to make a remark about the sheets, but it would be a stupid one. Any color would be Fili's, for he longed to see him against black and against purple, against green and virgin white. Fili made him giddy and Kili wanted more of that. "You're the best part of tonight, you know," he bared his thoughts for a brief moment.

Fili considered those words. Did Kili really mean it, or were they just a kindness extended to his current bed partner? Such opulence and extravagance just a floor below them. Fili couldn't compare to the riches of the duchy Kili would one day inherit and rule. "It's kind of you to say that, Kili," he smiled. "Today is all about you. I'm glad you chose to spend even the smallest part of it with me. And I hope," he got to his feet and walked over to a chair near Kili's bed where Ori had left the crudely wrapped package Fili had brought for Kili's name day, "that you like your gift."

He handed it to the Young Master and waited patiently while Kili unwrapped the small sketch. It was no larger than one foot by two, but it was a detailed rendering of Kili leaning out the window of the observatory and looking out over the town. A breeze lifted his hair. His eyes were turned to the view, his tunic was casually unbuttoned, and he wore a contented smile. 

_This is how I shall always think of you,_ a note in Fili's handwriting explained. 

The brown paper with its darker shades and chalked highlights was expertly drawn, even more so when Kili realized he had never posed for Fili that way, and he had only been to the observatory once. The details were clearly by heart, but they matched. "If I'd tell you I value this more than any of the other presents I've received, I'm afraid you won't believe me, would you?" he wondered. Fili's note sounded sad though—like what was happening between them was already at an end. He sat up in the bed and pulled Fili to sit opposite him. "I really like it. I also really like what we just did, and I want to do it again and again until we're forced to stop. Is that okay by you?"

Fili could only nod while he collected his thoughts.

"Yes, yes of course, Kili," he said finally. But he was already in mourning for what he could not have. "Though I cannot stay here in the city forever. My mother does expect me back home eventually. I imagine I shall have to depart after your portrait is complete, unless given a reason to stay."

"Right..." Kili nodded without truly meaning it. He was sure that he wanted more of this, but there were so many doubts. Fili had never been with anyone, and this was someone who currently worshipped him for showing him the pleasures of sex—it could so easily be just the passion speaking, with Fili regretting it in the morning. They would never be together in the end, but did that mean they had to stop trying altogether? Wasn't a moment of love better than never to have had a stab at it at all? Yet Fili spoke as if he needed the moon and the stars, something solid and true, and Kili could only offer him the ride there, but not the castle made of silver sand and stardust to stay. He took a deep breath, because keeping that between them would only bring trouble.

"So," Kili gathered his thoughts, "I want you to stay. I have never really wanted anyone to stay before, and I have no idea whether that means you expect things of me. I just want you here, with me, and learn all I can about you and hope you can continue to see me like this, without the titles and the riches. I'm going to get married eventually, and you'll have to leave eventually, but none of that feels right to me. Can't we forget about that and do what feels right for as long as we can?"

Suddenly chilled, Fili climbed into bed next to Kili and pulled the sheets up to his chest. "I don't expect anything of you, Kili. I'm here to paint your portrait," he smiled softly, "that's all. Anything else that happens between us—well, that's just an extra perk of the job, isn't it? For both of us. I won't let it keep me from performing my duties, of course," he caressed Kili's cheek. 

Fili hadn't come into this room expecting what happened to be something he was going to miss living without. He wondered if Kili felt the same strange inexplicable connection that he had felt, or if it was just the pleasure fogging his mind.

And just like that, the absence of any mutual future had torn a rift. Kili wouldn't have it. He didn't want to consider this a 'perk of the job'. It was wrong on so many levels, not the least of which being that it placed Kili into this as the commissioner and Fili as a hired, subordinate man. Not as equals. Kili leaned forward and kissed Fili. He slowly moved to straddle him, with their naked bodies on top of one another and the kiss gentle but communicative. "I can't bear the thought of you walking away from me," he whispered. "I've never felt like I'm only half before."

"You ought not say such things," Fili trembled, fingers curling in Kili's hair. "If the wrong person were to overhear you..."

"I'll say what I want in my chambers." Kili kissed his shoulder with devotion. "These doors have held all of my secrets before, and they will continue to do so. Tell me you don't feel the same."

"It's not in my place to have such strong feelings," Fili squeezed his upper arms, "especially for someone so influential. But, Kili, I feel as if I were forced to part from you, it might — it _would_ — cause me pain."

Kili cupped his face and kissed his lips gently. "In here, it is your place. Do you think it's my place to have intercourse with the son of a sheep herder? I don't care, these walls don't care and I wish that while you're here and that door is barred, you wouldn't care either." The ball was forgotten to Kili. "Now kiss me. That's not a command. It's because I want you to."

"And I return the kiss because _I_ want to," Fili reminded him, and pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss. Fili tried to think like Kili—to envision this room as a safe haven—but had had so much more to lose.

"It's the only reason why you should kiss me," smiled Kili. He fell onto his side and snuggled closer. This was for now all that he needed.

Ten minutes later, he had closer his eyes and fallen asleep with a smile on his lips.

Fili could not allow himself that luxury. His uncle's words of warning rebuked him. _I've gone and done the exact opposite of what I promised him,_ Fili lamented. And he made a vow not to speak of it to anyone—not even dear Ori, who'd be dying to know the details.

Fili carefully extricated himself from Kili's embrace and slipped into the washroom, where he cleaned himself up. He was dressed in his costume and replacing the last of his hair baubles, loosened by their vigorous love-making, when Kili yawned and opened his eyes.

"I should return to the ball, Kili," Fili told him, "as it might be unwise for us to be seen returning together." He lay a gentle kiss to Kili's lips. "Don't fall back to sleep," he cautioned, picking up his mask, unlatching the heavy wooden door and slipping out through it.

The silence he left behind was oddly constricting. Kili lay watching the door silently, numerous thoughts haunting him. This was exactly how he had ended many a night with a handsome stranger. Fili might not be familiar with that, but it felt like he was being thanked for a fun night, and that that'd be it. That couldn't be it though. Fili wasn't that kind of man. Though if Kili had not woken up, Fili would have left without his knowledge and the other side of Kili's bed would have been cold upon his waking.

A stubborn streak in Kili said that he shouldn't be so dramatic. He picked himself up, stretched in the bed—grinned and sank back into it at the memory of what had passed here not so long ago—then got up for a bath. When he was ready to go back, close to another hour had passed, and Kili was determined to visit Fili in his guest chambers that night. 

He returned to the ball and sought out anyone he knew, that wasn't his father. He talked with a distant uncle, charmed a murder of courtesans, and danced with several older ladies, all of whom tried to get him to meet their daughters or granddaughters.

It was keeping up appearances for Kili, killing time for the end of the night to come. And none knew that the smiles that were genuine were only because of one man.


	8. Every Family Has its Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the ball isn't nearly as awkward as the evening after...

Fili nearly went home to Thorin's after leaving Kili's chamber. Any sensible person _would_ have. Instead, he spent the remainder of the ball sitting with Ori, who gave him a very knowing look upon returning but wisely asked no questions. With a soft smile playing on his face, Fili watched Kili into the wee hours. He didn't disturb him. A Name Day that brought him into adulthood only happened once, and he was determined to allow Kili to enjoy his.

Soon, however, the hour grew quite late, and Fili, unaccustomed to being awake at such a time, began to yawn. "I shall have to retire to the chambers you assigned me," he told Ori, rising. He said his farewells to Ori's brothers and made his exit. He paused to incline his head to Kili as he passed, smiling as two young ladies vied for his attentions. If only they knew. _If only._

Kili nodded to him in reply, smiled, and continued his merry conversation with the two ladies. He separated from them some time later, joined Ori, whom he had given far too little attention throughout the ball, and got pleasantly lost in a discussion about summer journeys. His own inconspicuous trip up to Fili's chambers ended up happening far later than was his plan.

It was four in the morning when Kili allowed himself access, closed the door behind him and made his way to Fili's bed.

Fili had tried valiantly to stay awake for Kili. He had had more wine this evening than he'd drunk in the past two years, however, and it eventually caught up with him. Stripped of everything but his braies and two of the baubles in his hair, he'd fallen into bed to wait. But, the bed was so soft and the fire so warm.

Kili found him face down and dead to the world.

\- - - - -

"Mama?" four-year-old Fili sat next to his mother by the fire, head resting on her round belly. "When will the baby come?"

"Soon, my treasure, soon," Dis lovingly caressed Fili's nearly white hair. "Soon you'll get to meet your new sister or brother."

Fili turned to kiss his mother's belly, "Hurry up, baby," he spoke to the mound of flesh. "I need somebody to play with."

Suddenly a tiny foot from inside poke up against Fili's cheek and he gasped. "Mama!"

"That's his way of saying he can't wait to play with you, either," she explained, tears welling up in her eyes.

Fili woke with a small gasp in his chambers at the Master's house, smiling at the memory. But the baby had never come. He remembered Uncle Thorin taking him outside for a walk and hearing his Mama crying. He thought he had heard a baby, too, but when Thorin returned him to the house, his mother was alone in bed. There was no baby and no Da either. The baby, they explained to him, had died in childbirth and his father had gone off to bury it. Fili never saw his Da again. Like so many things in his childhood, it was never explained. And Uncle Thorin's eyes were so stern that Fili learned not to ask questions.

Kili lay next to him on his back, gold paint still on his cheeks and gilded thread twined in his hair.

\- - - - - 

Ori was patient. He had seen his brothers off a little while ago—he’d loaned them a carriage and two fine horses, which was a luxury for two people with no title who had come down from the Blue Mountains—and sat sketching the room and some small things like flowers in the common room of Fili's chambers. That way, he would hear it when Fili stirred and would be there when he woke. It was a lovely day, were it not for the hangover. Dori had fed him too much wine indeed.

He must have been there enjoying the quietude and the light filtering down for nearly an hour when he heard the tell-tale groan of a man with too much alcohol in his system waking up. Ori put his equipment away and padded to the bedroom. "It's me, Ori," he knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"

Fili, with his hair disheveled and wrapped in a warm crimson robe, opened the door and stepped out. "Good morning, Ori," he smiled, but winced as if the light hurt his eyes. "Kili is still asleep, so I came out here. He was up quite late, I fear. I fell asleep before he got in."

"He fell asleep here?" Ori wondered as he pressed the door closed behind Fili and walked along with him, offering him a glass of freshly pressed orange juice. "I couldn't find him in his own rooms, so I figured he must have gone out to the gardens. He likes the silence of the gardens when he's feeling morning sick from the wine. How are you feeling yourself?" It really wasn't any of his business, but he couldn't help but add, "And Kili?"

Fili nodded, not wanting to tell Ori the entire truth. "He had had a bit too much to drink, as you can imagine. I told him if he was feeling under the weather to come here and I'd keep an eye on him. Sadly, I fell asleep before he arrived. I feel...all right. I'm not accustomed to drinking all I did, but I did eat a great deal as well."

He picked up the juice. "What a beautiful color," he remarked, raising it to his lips and taking a sip. "It's...very sweet. And yet sour as well. Like sunshine in a cup. Thank you, Ori."

"You never had orange juice?" Ori couldn't picture someone never having had orange juice before. Then again, he had become rather accustomed to the standards of the house, and Kili had always loved to include him in that household. He smiled gently. "I could have you seen home, if you'd like, but if you want breakfast first, there is some left for you in the kitchens. And perhaps you would like a bath?"

"I have had my share of cider, of course—-the juice of apples," Fili told him. "Mother makes wonderful cider. But this fruit...the orange? I have seen them before but never tried it. It does not grow here. It must be from another trade route," he smiled. Already he was envisioning twining orange highlights through Kili's hair in his portrait.

"I _would_ very much love a bath," he confessed to Ori, remembering how nice the first two had felt.  
I can't thank you enough for allowing me this night. The costume, the ball. It was a taste of what Heaven must be like. I hope it was special for you as well." 

"Follow me." They left Fili's main chamber in exchange for the adjoining bath room, still private and inaccessible to anyone but the staff—and the staff never came there, for standing in the way of the house's guests was bad and came with repercussions. "I've not seen my brothers in years. It was...well, it was wonderful. I wish I could see them longer than just a night, but I'm already grateful enough they were there. It was a ball. Commoners don't tend to get invited, especially not if it's a ball this important. But they were there." He was beaming. "They said they would visit me again soon. Isn't that wonderful?"

Ori stepped aside at the bath and averted his eyes. "I'll be checking in on Kili now. Would you like me to ask him to join you if he is awake?"

"If he wishes to join me," Fili told Ori, hands reaching for the waist of his braies, a soft smile raising the corners of his mouth, "he may." Fili slipped into the depths of the warm water. He'd never get used to the rush of comfort it brought him.

Ori inclined his head and shuffled away to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, nudging Kili to wake him.

Kili looked content and worn out, his feet tangled in the sheets and his body wrapped into the warmth where Fili had just been. Waking him was not easy, for he chanced opening his eyes and immediately screwed them shut again at the light. "Too bright..."

"Yes, too bright," Ori allowed. He took a chance. "Fili is taking a bath. I'll arrange an escort to take him home after that. Then you can take a bath, okay?"

"He's still here?" came muffled from underneath sheets.

"Oh yes. Though I wonder what you might be doing in his bed."

Kili grinned stupidly. Ori was right, he always made sure to sleep in his own bed, alone, after relations with someone else, yet Fili had woken next to him this morning. "Did he look uncomfortable at waking next to me?" he inquired.

"He marveled at orange juice."

They both laughed, impeded by sleep and headaches. "The bath, you said?"

Ori nodded, but his smile died. "Remember he is still your painter. Be honest with him about what you want and what you don't. That's all I ask."

Those words hurt a little, but they spoke the truth. The Young Master rose from the bed, wrapped Fili's sheets around him and kissed Ori's forehead. He was glad to have a servant who was his closest friend and who returned it, who cared so much about him. "I'll be careful. Can you get me something to wear for when I'm clean in the mean time?"

And so Ori made for other quarters while Kili walked to the bath, discarded the sheets, and got in with a smile that was specially designed for Fili—sleepy and affectionate. "Morning."

Fili, whose wet hair stuck out every which way, let out a barely controlled chuckle at Kili's appearance. "Good morning," he said finally, extending a hand for Kili to join him. "You've got that gold paint smeared all over you. Get in here and let me clean you properly."

Fili picked up a soft cloth and a block of soap, covertly appraising Kili's body as he climbed in next to him. He set to work in silence, gently washing the gold paint from Kili's face, chest, shoulders.

"I thought you might want to sleep longer," he finally said. "You were up quite late."

"You were asleep when I came in; how do you know?" Kili asked him with his eyes closed and his head tipped sideways to allow Fili access while wearing a blissful smile. He basked in the simple pleasure of hands taking care of him. "Besides, Ori said you might leave after the bath, and I didn't want to miss you." He kissed the back of Fili's hand when it came within reach. "How are you feeling?"

"I know," Fili tilted Kili's head to one side and wiped away a smudge of paint near his hairline, "because you're _you,_ and you wouldn't simply desert guests still reveling at your own party, would you? You are kind," Fili told him. "I saw it yesterday with the little boy with the bow. That's what did it for me, you know." He smiled and handed the cloth to Kili, indicating that he wanted him to have a go at any of the remaining kohl around his eyes.

Kili didn't know how to handle that compliment when it was a quality his father had always told him would make him look weak, so he focused on Fili's makeup, liking him much better when he was without it. It was more natural. "It must have been around four," he admitted. "I had hoped you were still awake for what I promised you, but you looked so peaceful that I didn't have the heart to wake you up."

"I wish you would have," Fili admitted. "For I'll have to return to Thorin's home soon. But," his eyes lit up, "I think we could steal a few more moments together here in the bath, don't you?"

Kili had to admit he had liked just sleeping next to him. It was easy and warm, for some reason. He had tried cuddling up, but he had had little knowledge of how to do so without waking someone up, so eventually he had fallen asleep just watching Fili breathe in and breathe out. That had not happened to him before. Kili would not admit so out loud. "Turn around," he told him, an idea forming in his head, and reached for the oils. "Ever had a good massage?"

"I haven't," Fili's eyes lit up. "Mother would try to get Uncle to take one from her, when he'd come in from the forge or the fields all tired and sore, but he always shrugged her off," he recalled the memory of his youth with a smile, turning away from Kili. "To be honest, Kili, it is _I_ who should be touching you today, after all the pleasure you showed me last night. T'would be only fair."

Kili gave him a look that had the potential to throw him off guard, while he crept back and reached out a toe to slide up Fili's leg. "I don't care much for fair today, I'm afraid. I simply want my hands on you, and if you say you've never had a massage, what better reason is there than that?" He had come into the bath pleased that Fili hadn't yet left, but his priorities were quickly shifting now.

"Call me selfish, but I want that too," Fili reached for the errant foot and gave it a firm squeeze. "Do what you will, Kili," he encouraged him, reaching around with his other hand and pulling his hair over one shoulder to give Kili access.

The first thing that Kili did, wholly unplanned and yet perfectly right, was press a kiss against the back of Fili's neck. He absently reached for one of the oils—any one would do—and bumped one over accidentally, but didn't miss beat and took that bottle to put a few drops in his palm. Bare shoulders beckoned Kili to kiss them. It was with great self-restraint that he sat back, shook some clarity into his thoughts, and laid his hands on Fili's shoulder blades.

"Close your eyes," Kili whispered into his ear. His hands moved gently. He knew he was good at it. His mother had often commended him on his ability to relieve muscle tension when he was younger. She had often had headaches, which had made him vow to himself to be the best, the gentlest at giving massages that he could be. That was how his hands moved along Fili's skin now. The surety of his touch was sometimes lightened for the simple pleasure of warm hands flat on the back of the other's neck. "I don't normally do this," he whispered. Fili was special.

It felt incredible, and so right, Kili's hands on him. Fili obeyed the Young Master and closed his eyes. This, of course, made it only that much easier to return to mournful thoughts.

"Do you ever," he asked in a soft voice, "feel so incredibly lonely? Like you have lost something—or someone—but you don't know who or what? Only that you're lost without them?" 

Kili's hands continued dutifully. Once or twice, Kili shifted and Fili could feel more of his body against him, but then he would shift again and it would be just his hands. "I have lost my mother. My father doesn't know how to raise me very well. He struggles with it. He doesn't say, but I can tell. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I were born to different parents, maybe had a younger brother or a sister, or even an older one. Those thoughts sometimes make more sense than me being in this place with a father who is ashamed of my brown hair. Mother told me I had hair that looked ginger when I was born. She said he had been so proud of his first son." His thumbs moved up between shoulder blades and fanned out to his shoulders, working out the knots. "Ori is always there. He's close to family. He feels like family. He's my anchor. Have you lost something or someone, Fili?"

"It's silly to even talk about," Fili shrugged. "We've all lost someone, haven't we? Sometimes, I just get the feeling that my family—even though we are just simple people, artisans, commoners—has secrets. Secrets I'm not allowed to know. But I suppose every family has its secrets," he slipped backwards and closer to Kili in the water, which was starting to grow a bit colder. "Being close to you last night, being surrounded by all those revelers," he sighed, "I suppose it just made me think about it more."

He was silent for a moment, allowing Kili's strong fingers to relax him. "I could see where you'd consider Ori a brother. Who wouldn't want a brother like him?" 

"I couldn't have survived here this long without him," Kili's fingers slipped a little lower before remembering that it was just the massage he was supposed to give, and they adjusted their course to wrap his arms around Fili's waist from behind, Kili's chin following to rest on his shoulder accordingly. "I think you're on the way towards getting there too. I don't think I've felt this at ease with someone on what is so popularly called 'the morning after'." He kissed him just under his ear. "If I continue your massage, I don't think I'll be able to keep my word about it staying just that."

"I never asked you to make that promise," Fili turned his head to the left and caught Kili's mouth with his own. He took hold of one of Kili's hands and slid it down his wet belly to cup his cock, already coming around to the idea.

Kili's mouth traced kisses of appreciation along Fili's shoulder, along with a murmur of consent. Somehow when it was Fili, all of the world around them just seemed to fade away. He wouldn't be from an influential house, and Fili wouldn't be a commoner. Without a hurry in the world, his hand wrapped around his cock and moved it lightly like a caress, then insistently firm at other times. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Anything," Fili nuzzled him. "Everything. Could we maybe...go back to bed?"

"Let's clean you first." And himself, though Kili knew that afterwards, they would need another bath regardless. He lathered his hands with soap and massaged that patiently into Fili's chest, moving to his hair and untangling the knots with care. He rinsed his own hair and rubbed his skin clean. When he rose from the floor-embedded basin, he wrapped himself in a large cream colored towel and offered Fili one, then teasingly got just outside of his grasp in an attempt to get him to follow.

Fili hadn't been bathed by anyone since he was a small boy. "I could get used to being taken care of," he told Kili, stepping forward and accepting the towel, immediately using it to begin to dry his hair. "I could easily get spoiled."

Fili had a sudden realization. "Is Ori out there? I mean, do you want him to know about us? I'm not sure it's a good idea, Kili."

"He undoubtedly knows," Kili smiled and lured him closer. He decided not to leave for the bedroom just yet, instead backing up against the door and tilting his chin up. "Come here. Spoil me."

Fili wrapped his towel around his waist. "You, Young Master," he stepped forward until their bodies were flush, "are far too spoiled already." He licked a line up Kili's throat and gently but possessively closed his teeth over Kili's pulse point. "I should like very much," he murmured into the soft flesh of Kili's neck, "to take you in my mouth." 

Kili practically shuddered. "Did you not say it was dirty?" he wondered, twisting Fili’s words around. Kili liked dirty, and he liked it even more when it was coming from a man who had, prior to last night, never done this before. His hand wrapped around Fili's waist and pulled him tighter against him, minimizing the gap between their lips, which he hungrily claimed.

"I'm an artist," Fili chuckled after they broke apart, as if it explained everything. "I owe it to myself to experience all that life has to offer...even if it's messy. _Especially_ if it's messy," he added, dropping to his knees. "Now, let's see here..." he mused, reaching a hand out to Kili's hip to steady him. He leaned in to take a deep whiff, then gave Kili's dick a tentative lick.

The towel that was clutched in Kili's hands dropped promptly to the floor. A thrill ran through him, setting his skin on edge. Kili nearly gasped. Fili was bold—bolder than he would have thought possible. "Oh..." he breathed, but despite wanting to retort with something witty, his words were lost in the jumble of his mind. "That's—"

It was...good. Kili watched with blown pupils how Fili moved. He wound his fingers gently into damp blond hair and sighed. Inexperienced though he was, he certainly was not afraid—and experience meant very little to Kili right now, when his eyes beheld a sight so bloody hot. He had the urge to pull him up and kiss him, ravish him, never let him go.

It _was_ a new experience for Fili, but one he readily welcomed. When the Master and his son had approached him in the market, Fili couldn't have dreamed he'd end up in this position—willingly. And yet, it was exactly where he wanted to be. Although he dreaded the idea of being apart from Kili, which was going to happen sooner rather than later, he decided that Kili was right. He needed to enjoy this while he could, with no regrets and no remorse. He could, and he would, he thought to himself, slowly taking Kili's cock into his mouth. His other hand crept to Kili's balls, testing their heft.

Seeing his cock disappear so far into Fili's mouth was maddeningly erotic. Kili's knees shook, but he pressed himself back against the door, effectively keeping any intruders out. He really ought to tell Fili not to take him in so deep, that it was difficult and took experience, but the thought left him before he could voice it. "That's good," he nodded as his eyes fell closed and hands cradled his jaw. Kili's body thrummed with giddiness. "God, I— let me touch you too. I need to touch you."

When Kili's cock, rapidly growing in length and hardness, touched the back of his throat, Fili gagged in surprise and he pulled away. "I'm sorry," he took a moment to regain his composure. "Let me try again." And try he did, hands slipping around behind Kili to cup his ass firmly. As Fili grew in confidence, he slowly took Kili's dick deeper, but never quite deep enough to cause the same unpleasant reflex. He was surprised at how much he enjoyed the taste of the bitter liquid that kept leaking onto his tongue.

At that same moment, Kili all but convulsed and tightened his fingers. He slid to his knees, his body no longer holding back the door though his feet could still bar it, given enough warning. Everything was exquisite. Even Fili's initial inexperience was pointless now, because with Kili's overly-sensitized body, it all rang through to his core and had his hips undulating up and into the heat that surrounded him. It was intimate beyond anything Kili could have imagined. He shook on his knees, clutched at Fili's hair and back, and was lost in the pleasure. Too soon, his grip became urgent—right before he reluctantly made to push Fili's mouth off. "Enough," Kili said hoarsely, "enough, careful..."

Fili reached for Kili's organ and caught it in his grip, just as it was about to spasm. _This_ he could handle without concern. It was an act with which he was very practiced—on himself. However, Kili did look different, and he certainly was more vocal when he found his release, as Fili was soon reminded.

"I wonder," Fili said, pensively, then leaned down to lick a bit of the come from his fingers. "Oh, Kili," he smiled, "you even _taste_ rich."

Kili limply batted him on the shoulder, a stupid grin stuck on his face. He was spent. "Come off it, no I don't." He held Fili as close to him as he could while he caught his breath, and proceeded to pull his naked form into his lap. The only obstruction—a towel that was no match—was quickly gotten rid of. Kili breathlessly nosed the other's neck and sighed out. A shiver ran through him. "If you thought that was dirty, I'll have you know I think I'm in heaven now, so how can it be dirty? You're perfect." _Perfect for me._ "Thank you."

"I'm coming 'round to the idea of it being not quite as dirty as I once thought," Fili smiled. "And I thank you for showing me the error of my ways."

\- - - - 

They hadn't scheduled a sitting time that day, so after the bath and a light lunch, Fili went home to Thorin's. He found the hearth cold; Thorin must still be away to purchase materials. He was actually quite relieved not to have to try to hide the smile that wouldn't seem to leave his face from his generally dour uncle. One more evening of being able to smile freely wasn't such a hardship.

Thorin didn't return until much later, after Ori had come to deliver him some wrapped food that he said Kili had called 'leftovers', but which were a full and freshly baked meal including bread and cut chicken meant for Fili and his uncle. 

Thorin carried the weight of days on his shoulders when he entered. He kicked up the fire in the hearth and collapsed in a large bag of sand that had been put there as an improvised armchair. "Fili," he called out with his eyes closed, "how was yesterday? Did they come pick it up?"

Where Fili was somewhat offended the last time Kili had sent over food, this time he had smiled warmly. Why shouldn't he? It was a token of love.

"Yes, Uncle," he responded. "They came just as you said, and asked me to thank you, as always, for your fine craftsmanship."

Thorin looked exhausted and unsettled. "Uncle?" Fili sat at his feet. "How did your trip go?"

"Ah," Thorin waved it away wearily, "misfortune on the road. I ran into a man who said the road was unsafe. Stole his purse, he said. I took a different road, on which I was caught in a thunderstorm." He had managed the ore, and then gotten back in time for the second part of his journey, the part which he could tell Fili nothing about. During the ball, nobody ought to have seen him on the other side of the Master's keep, to visit an old friend. "How is it they've sent you food today? I thought you haven't painted for the Young Master since I left?"

"I believe the Young Master thinks kindly of me," Fili told Thorin carefully, "and wants to show his appreciation. As you can see," he gestured towards the small easel near the hearth, "I have been working from memory. This commission will secure our stability for some time, Uncle," he reminded him.

Funny, Fili thought to himself, although he'd been inside all evening, he still didn't recall hearing any thunder. "You look as if you could use some rest. Let me make you a plate, Thorin."

Their excuse of a kitchen was overloaded with what would be but a snack in the palace. Kili had had Ori tuck in some pieces of different soft cheese, each wrapped in their own velvety soft paper, as well as grapes. There was even a small flask with wine. Overall, it looked more like a royalty picnic basket than a decent lunch. Fili busied himself putting together an appetizing plate for his uncle.

A knock on the door startled them both, and Thorin called to him to see who it was.

Fili had no warning for the cloaked figure on his doorstep, pushing his cape off and maneuvering himself inside by backing Fili up. "Ori said you were alone," Kili grinned. "Sorry. His bringing you food was partly to figure out that much on my behalf. You haven't ea—"

Kili's eyes fell on Thorin, who sat dumbstruck. His lips parted and his eyes widened. "—Oh."

"Uncle," Fili tried to hide his blush as he took a step back from Kili, who was standing at more than a companionable proximity, "surely you remember the Young Master. This is an unexpected surprise indeed, isn't it?"

Fili cleared his throat when Thorin didn't respond immediately, but eyed the pair with a look Fili could quite interpret. "I was just fixing us both a plate. Can I make one for you as well, Young Master?"

Thorin sat baffled. "I—Surely, the Young Master would feel ill at ease at having food with a blacksmith and a painter?" He got up and offered Kili the bow that Fili, he noticed, had not given him. "Your visit is an honor that humbles us, my lord. My congratulations on your name day." All the while he kept his eyes trained at the floor. He didn't understand.

But Kili laughed and crouched to meet with Thorin's eyes. "Thank you. But please stand up," he smiled. "I am here for my good friend, and his family should not feel forced to bow before me as long as we're behind closed doors. I apologize; I assumed you wouldn't be here. If I knew you would be, I would have sent Ori along with more food." For it had been meant for Fili and himself, not Fili and Thorin. "How are you, Master Durin?" His eyes briefly met with Fili and spoke of promise. Elsewhere though, for Thorin's presence did put a stopper on some of the things Kili had come for.

"I am well, Young Master," Thorin told him. "You've sent us enough quality food for several days. We are truly in your debt. I must confess, I hadn't expected my nephew's commission to include rations as well. We are blessed." 

Kili might not have noticed—but Fili did—that Thorin seemed terribly upset, but was trying vainly to hide it. "Uncle, here you go," Fili squeezed Thorin's shoulder and gestured for him to sit back down and eat. "Kili and I can sit at the table."

He hadn't meant to allow Kili's proper name to slip from his lips, but Fili, in his concern for Thorin, hadn't even noticed.

The other company in the room however had. "Well, the cat's out of the bag now," quipped Kili as he fondly tousled Fili's hair. "I have more or less commanded this man here to call me by my first name when nobody else is around. Ori does it too, you see. Technically, you should be considered company to be careful around, as is my old man, but since you've undoubtedly noticed, I'd ask you to do me the same honor." Kili dug out a bit of cheese and pressed it between his lips, nipping at his finger as it slid in after the cheese and keeping his eyes on Fili when Thorin didn't see.

"You call him by his first name, Fili?" Thorin rounded his frustration on his nephew. He couldn't very well tell someone of Kili's social status off, but he had no qualms about holding back for Fili.

"Only by his request, Uncle," Fili bit his lip and shot Kili a look to discourage his behavior. "I will admit, it causes me some discomfort. I know it's extremely disrespectful, but he has asked it of me." Fili's hand trembled as he put a few grapes and a square of bread on a small plate for himself. 

Thorin's hand tightened into a fist, then loosened again. Fili could see his uncle was struggling with something, as if it pained him to look at Kili. "Perhaps we could do some painting outdoors this evening," he suggested to Kili. He had to get him out of the house.

"It's turning dark soon," Kili wondered in earnest now. He had picked up on Thorin's mood and, while he understood none of it, he knew better than to provoke him further. Besides, it wasn't as if Kili was thrilled about him being here either, but at least he had the decency to pretend everything was all right. "I wouldn't mind, if you could arrange for candles or other light, but if you want a good practice, I think somewhere indoors is better. How about we go for a walk after our food and we'll check on the light?" He bowed to Thorin then. "Thank you for having me in your house. I know it must be strange, and I know you must have heard things of me. I mean Fili no harm, you have my word."

Fili barely controlled the huff of annoyance at being talked about as if he weren't in the room. He ate but a few bites of his meal, then busied himself with cleaning up.

"It is I who owe you an apology, Young Master," Thorin explained. "I have just come from a long trip by horseback and I did not sleep last night. Had I known you were coming, we could have received you with much better fanfare."

Fili was very anxious to speak with Thorin, who looked for all the world as if he were seeing a ghost. Could he see how happy Kili was to be around Fili? Was that what was upsetting Thorin? Fili felt ill-equipped to deal with the situation. He only knew he had to separate them.

"A walk would be lovely, Young Master," he told Kili. We could continue seeking a spot for your portrait."

"Were it not the gardens?" Kili took a bite, then another. He soon put his fork back on the table and lied, "I'm sorry, I ate too much yesterday and it's still..." It wasn't, of course. He longed to be out with Fili, away from prying eyes that forbade him the simplest kiss on the cheek. "Oh, if you happen to have the time tonight, you should really have a look from the observatory. But I understand if you don't. If you're anything like me, you must be sporting a headache right now." He chuckled and pushed his plate forward.

The house was in poor condition, Kili noticed. The stone floor around the fire was covered in soot and by the fire, the table was crude, with some dented pots and pans—two to be exact—and two mugs that had chips. Everything had been overused and not replaced. Kili wondered in what sort of bed Fili would sleep that night. He didn't doubt that it would be worse than his own bed, but now he wondered whether it wasn't just a sack of hay. He could only see one bed from where he sat, and that surely had to belong to Thorin.

As soon as he saw fit, he got up and gestured at the door. "A walk?"

Thorin was making Kili uncomfortable.

"Uncle, may I?" Fili felt obliged to ask. He'd never seen Thorin looking so shaken. Fili felt near tears himself, having Kili here and seeing how they lived. It paled in comparison to Kili's life.

Thorin couldn't say no to such high company. He inclined his head, turning to the fire. "I could use a nap. If I'm still asleep when you get back, wake me up?" By which he meant to say that an hour at most would suffice, and also that he would appreciate Fili being alone when he returned.

The hint was understood. Kili returned the light bow. "It was nice seeing you again, Thorin," he said formally, then clasped his hand in Fili's and pulled him back out the door. Kili hid himself away under his cloak immediately, tugged Fili into the closest shadows, and pressed a lingering kiss against Fili's mouth, almost like he had missed him greatly.

"Oh, Kili," Fili said softly, "you shouldn't have come to Thorin's home like this." What he wasn't saying was that he was simply ashamed by the condition of Thorin's home, by no fault of his own. "I _am_ happy to see you. And to be honest, I hadn't expected him back so soon. He'd told me he'd be gone a few days."

"I needed to see you," Kili spoke in the dark. "He's not happy that I showed up, is he? Does he hold a grudge against me?" He stole another kiss. With his body already responding, Kili didn't need much to rekindle the flame that had been consuming him throughout the day at errant thoughts. "I want him to like me. He means a lot to you."

"Aside from my mother, he is the most important person in my life. I daresay he's been a father to me," Fili told Kili. "I can't help but feel there is another reason. It's certainly not you that's troubling. I would have been able to tell that from his manner. He seemed afraid. And that scares me too. Why would he have cause to fear you, Kili?" Fili cupped Kili's face with one hand, keeping them in the shadows.

Fear. So commonly, but so painfully, fear. Most of the time, Kili could pull up a mask of numbness against fear. Whenever he browsed through items on a market or went out for a ride on his horse, people would make way for him and avoid looking at him. His father said that how it was supposed to be, but it wasn't always respect. A sadness overtook him. "They always fear me. You feared me, didn't you, when we first met? Because of who I am. But with Thorin, it felt like he was angry with me too. I shouldn't have come. I just," he sighed, "you know that feeling that pushes you to do things because you need to, because you won't get any sleep if you don't?"

"Oh, Kili, no," Fili took the brunet's face in both hands to ensure their eyes met. "I will admit that I was wary of you initially, even resented you a bit... but never, _never_ did I fear you. No one who knows you could possibly," he pulled Kili in for a gentle kiss. "I do not think it's you Thorin fears either, but rather repercussions of treating you poorly. That first day, when you and your father first walked over....why, even then, he seemed nervous about something. And more than just the nervousness that comes from being around someone of consequence. In fact, I seem to recall that on that day he introduced me not as his nephew, but as his apprentice, as if he were trying to impress your father—or deny our relationship."

"It's always father," Kili shrugged, a spark missing that was usually there. "When mother still lived and I went out to the market with her, people would come up to us and offer us their best products. They said it would be their honor. And mother never took their best products unless she paid for them accordingly. Dad would just take them and give nothing in return. They never came up and bowed to him in reverence. It's fear, for what he'll do if they don't." He missed his mother more than anything. "Thorin probably wanted what was best for you. To be related to a blacksmith isn't a very high standard in father's eyes. It would have decreased your chances of him accepting you as my painter." Slowly the spark returned. "Well, enough about that. You _are_ my painter, and I quite like you painting me, in more ways than the one you're thinking of."

He was reminded of the afternoon in the bath house. Kili couldn't help it; he licked his lips upon remembering how Fili had lain on the cold tiles with several towels between him and the floor for comfort and warmth, lost to bliss as Kili's mouth had pleasured him unto completion. Kili had taken his time for him then; he wouldn't have as much time right now. But though his body yearned for the other's touch, his heart appreciated the kisses and conversation. "Come," he pulled him along, "I want to go somewhere with you. You can be my knight if anything happens."


	9. Dream Corner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili and Fili make plans. Thorin finally tells Fili the truth.

A storm was building outside when Kili pulled Fili into a small tavern. It couldn't be a place where Kili wanted to be found dead, but nonetheless he pulled off his hood and made for the bar immediately. "Bombur!" he grinned, "Two jugs of your finest ale if you please!"

Fili gave the rotund barkeep a hesitant smile. He knew Thorin frequented this pub, The Shire, but he had only been inside once. He picked up the ales, handed one to Kili, and asked over the din, "Where would you like to sit?"

"The usual," Kili was tempted to kiss him in his buoyancy, but he refrained and linked their fingers instead, hidden under the large leather cloak. Before Fili could ask where that usual spot was, Kili had guided him there. It was a small spot and secluded from the rest of the tavern by ways that hardly anyone paid attention to it, but not so much that it was a place for shady businesses. Kili sat down in the chair and slumped. He pulled his hair into a bun and tousled the rest to make himself less obviously the Master's son.

With toes probing Fili's ankle, Kili smiled at him over his ale. "I like to sit here sometimes. Bombur over there knows me. Nobody messes with me or Ori, and I get to be among normal people without dad knowing. It's refreshing."

Seeing Kili relax helped Fili to calm himself a bit as well. But he couldn't stop thinking about his uncle. Had something happened on his trip he didn't want to talk about? Or did he just, like everyone else in the town, have an unhealthy fear of the Master?

He needed to clear his mind of these thoughts. Fili uncorked the ale and took a generous sip. It was the good stuff, he decided, due to its strength. "Kili," he ventured, "tell me more about you. What's a typical day like for you?"

Such a formal question between men who had shared a bed, but Kili answered it gladly. "Breakfast, naturally. Usually Ori wakes me, because I have trouble waking up on time on my own." He smiled guiltily. "Then I'm on a schedule. That's classes, or joining father on his audiences, or entertaining a guest. I usually have a few hours off during the afternoon, and then after that is dinner. Having clothes fitted, or practicing writing, or reading something Ori shows me. And sometimes I have time just for myself."

He had planned to hand the small package to Fili later, but there was no better time than now, so Kili reached into his pocket and took out a cylindrically shaped object, fanning out at the top. "And then I have pastimes that are a bit of a secret. I made this for you."

"Kili!" Fili's smile split his face as he held the polished small gnarled tree cut from green soap stone up to the lantern light for inspection. "This is exquisite work—and such details. I had no idea you had a hidden talent. "Why a tree? Does it have some significance?"

With a blush on his face, Kili waved it away. "It's the World Tree," he said. "We have tapestries of it in our Great Hall. Here is where we are," and he pointed at the trunk. "Above us in the branches is light and warmth, and beneath us in the roots lies darkness and cold. But in the heart we're the perfect balance. I always liked its symbolism. Don't tell anyone I gave you this. It's not very virtuous for people of my station to do manual labor. I like making things out of shapeless lumps. It's like the carvings are there, just waiting for someone to reveal them." He took a drink and couldn't keep his eyes off Fili. "Maybe it's because you balance me. I feel grounded when I'm around you."

"Well," Fili squeezed his hand, "I happen to think there is nothing _more_ virtuous than to be an artisan. I often feel guilty about it, if you must know. How lucky I am to be able to make money doing something I love—when others have to labor so hard in the fields, on boats or over a table? I am blessed. All artists are. It's very liberating. I would love to see more of what you've made." He leaned over and kissed Kili chastely on the cheek. The kiss was laden with promise.

"It's nothing big," Kili immediately said. He was not self-conscious about a lot of things, but this was different. This was personal. He watched Fili with an interest to divert him from the subject—secretly pleased that he liked the tree he had carved for him—and wriggled a foot out of an expensive boot to tug on Fili's trouser leg. "How about you? What does your day consist of? Do you paint all the time?"

"Ah, wouldn't that be lovely?" Fili mused. "When I have a commission, it is mostly all I do, but here in town I help Uncle with his stall. Hot business that. At home, I help Mum with the dyeing, hanging and sheep shearing. She mixes the most exquisite colors for cloth, and our sheep, well they turn out the softest wool. I have a devil of a time getting them to stand still for it, though. Much like you, they'd rather be on the go."

The thought of Fili dressed as a shepherd while he looked out over the flock amused Kili. "She sounds like a strict person, your mother. Not unjustly so, if she's got a painter as a son. Tell me about her. About home. It must be so different from mine. Your mother probably listens to you when you talk. How was your father?"

"Oh, but she isn't," Fili corrected him. "Strict, I mean. She's simply lovely. She works hard, it's true. She has as long as I've known her. And she always seems to have a bit of a wistful sadness about her. I always figured it was because she lost a baby." Fili squeezed Kili's foot softly. "I had a little brother who died during childbirth as well. I was five. I—I don't really remember everything, of course, because I was so young. My father died around the same time. I cannot recall his face," he found himself saying, with a small sniffle. "I wish I could. Thorin had been like a father to me, until he moved back to the city a few years ago."

Kili's pleasant mood fell. He had not heard that when Ori told him everything he knew about Fili one night when Kili got curious and asked him. Ori admittedly had not told him much besides how they used to play as kids, but he had made no mention of a lost brother. "I'm sorry," he looked down. He had never known what it was like to have a brother. It had to feel like he wasn't alone. But life had been cruel, given Fili a taste and then had promptly taken it away. Kili looked back up and reached to squeeze his hand. "What would have been his name?"

Fili shook his head. "I don't know. Mother never told me. But it was a boy. I never saw him. I used to talk to her tummy, you know, _how do you do?_ Telling him all the things we'd do once he made an appearance. Da, it seems died, or was killed, right after that. It was a blow for my mother, as you can imagine. I was very young and I suppose she and Thorin were protecting me. They never gave details. I never asked questions. But, of course, I always wondered what happened."

Did that happen frequently, Kili wondered to himself? Poverty was known to take its toll on people's health, skin them down and turn them gaunt. He had never considered that infants could suffer from it too, or die from it even. It had to happen frequently, while those with money needn't concern themselves. Kili had never considered that even life or death for a firstborn could depend on money. No wonder so many people disliked people with wealth even if they weren't as shrewd as his father. "I don't know what to say," he whispered. "I wish you would have gotten your brother. You'd be amazing, having someone to take care of. That's what older brothers do, don't they? If I had a younger brother, I would have taught him all the things father wouldn't have wanted him to know. I tried to do that with Ori, but Ori, he has a mind of his own." Kili recalled that with fondness. "He won't let me drag him along. He's more of an older brother than me."

"You lost a sibling and parent as well, and you have the best of everything," Fili reminded him. "Death, when it wants to take someone, doesn't seem to care about money or status, does he?"

Fili grew pensive, smiling down at their clasped hands for a moment. "I was frightfully lonely after Ori left. Having a brother...that certainly would have helped, I think. I often wonder how he might have turned out."

"A younger version of you," Kili grinned. "Would have been my age then. You would have had some competition." Only, he thought, not really. Kili felt himself drawn to Fili because of how he looked, sure, but a big part was also in who he was, and how he hadn't allowed himself to be pushed around by Kili's family status. "Let me tell you a secret. You mustn't tell anyone, promise?"

"Go on then," Fili smiled, whispering into the shell of Kili's ear "I won't tell anyone."

"Swear to it?" Kili wriggled his nose funnily. "You see, when I'm here, I sometimes bring a book with me. It's kind of embarrassing. Most of the customers don't know how to read, which is why it's this place and not the palace. Nobody here would laugh. Have you heard of this thing called romantic novels?"

"Uncle made sure I knew how to read," Fili smiled, "for business purposes, of course. But why would anyone want to spend time reading a book about someone else's romance when he could be out enjoying his own?"

Kili coughed, a faint glow appearing on his cheeks. "Well. I never had the courtship part. I don't think I will, not in that public way, because it's pretty much decided I'm supposed to marry someone with coins to her name. It's...just easy to get carried away and wonder what could have been. With flowers, and kisses, and waking up next to someone, knowing you wouldn't ever want to wake up alone again, because suddenly you're whole. If anyone in the castle knew I like that, they would mock me behind my back." And he wanted that with Fili. "This place is where I dream."

Fili didn't know if it was the ale talking, or his heart, but something suddenly gave him the courage to ask, "Have you ever considered just...running away with someone? It would be challenging, but not impossible."

It was the seed for a thought planted. Kili blinked, his hands around his mug and his lips attached to the rim. "Never thought about it. There was never someone who made me consider it. Well, I wouldn't miss dad. Ori though, I'd feel bad for Ori. But everyone would be looking for me," he lamented. "Running away when half the city knows your face, it's impossible. Though, to have that kind of freedom..." That kind of freedom to love. Kili felt intoxicated. He had never assumed love would be in the stars for him.

"And if Ori wanted to come along?" Hope fluttered in Fili's chest like a butterfly. "There's many a town beyond this one. Towns where artisans and scribes—men with talent and knowledge—would be welcomed with open arms. Towns where no one would know you and no one would ask questions."

"If he wouldn't feel left out." Despite the ale, Kili's lips and mouth were dry and his eyes watched Fili with intent. "Are you asking me to consider starting all over somewhere else?" He could hunt. Kili knew how to hunt, and though his father had shunned his curiosity for what came after, the kitchen help had been most willing to secretly teach Kili how to skin and gut. He could ride a horse and he could wield a bow. They could make it work. It felt a little like madness, but this was his dream corner of the tavern, and in here he didn't allow ugly realities. "I could kiss you on the street?"

"Just like any other couple," Fili's skin flushed as he played along with the fantasy. "And Ori, why, he'd fall in love so quickly, especially at a place so accepting—so full of promise. But, Kili, I could never, ever ask something like that of you. You have far too much to lose here."

What neither of them noticed is that Thorin had come into the pub, which wasn't unusual at all. He took a seat at the counter and ordered a drink. When his eyes fell upon his nephew and his companion in a cleverly-shadowed corner, his heart leaped into his throat.

With his back toward Thorin, Kili allowed himself to dream. His eyes misted over. "And so much to gain. There are differences in importance between losing a full plate of food in the morning and a full heart. Half the friends I have laugh at my jokes because it's _etiquette_. What does that tell you?" His hand traced patterns on the back of Fili's hand. Kili glowed with the growing need to demonstrate how much he wanted him. He held himself back only because they were in a public space. "To find love and truly be able to have it is a bigger wealth to me than a rich charade to cover up a dulled heart."

"Kili," Fili raised Kili's hand to his lips and kissed it, "there is _nothing_ dull about you...least of all your heart."

"It would be if I were to marry a lady according to father's plans." Kili didn't want to think about any arrangements. He wanted more of Fili's words simply to listen to his voice. "How can you still be here?" he wondered aloud. "You couldn't stand me when we first met, and I thought you would be little more than a conquest. Now I can't bear the thought of you one day leaving to return to your mother."

"When I return to my mother," Fili assured him, "you will be _with_ me, Kili. I want her to meet the man who's stolen my heart. The man I intend to hold onto for all my days."

Across the room, Thorin's hand holding his ale trembled. 

Likewise did Kili's, just as his whole body trembled in unanticipated happiness. Where had this come from? What had he done to suddenly have this man thrust upon his path and rattle the future he had grown up knowing, offering him a choice where there had been none before? He couldn't have imagined any of the rich men around him to have made him feel this way. He nodded quietly and smiled, close to flustered at Fili.

"I'd follow you anyway,” Kili said. “What am I to do with only half a heart?"

Thorin watched as Fili, obviously delighted by something the Young Master had said to him, leaned in for a lingering kiss on the mouth. Fili had explicitly ignored Thorin’s advice and now it was obvious that the two of them had a physical relationship. The notion of it chilled Thorin to the bone and his stomach riled against the ale he had bought to drink. 

He was in equal amounts frustrated and fascinated. Fili was in love. This phenomenon was something he'd never witnessed. Fili looked at the Young Master as if he were seeing the face of God—like Kili had hung the moon and painted in the stars.

How was he going to break the news to Fili that their love simply could not be?

After what felt like ages, Kili got up and tugged Fili along. "I should get you to your home, before I decide to take you to mine," and he didn't very much oppose that thought. Pulling up his hood, he made himself again unrecognizable to the other guests and pulled Fili out of the tavern with his eyes cast on the floor. Nobody would know him if he didn't make eye contact.

Kili's mind was distracted with dreams of running away. It was too soon now, after only a few days, but give it a month...

Thorin, when he saw the pair ready to depart, also drew up his hood, and Kili and Fili passed by him without recognition. 

"This is one of those nights when I wish I had my own home," he heard Fili say in passing. "Someday, Kili. Someday you and I will build a home together. I promise you that."

Kili kissed him in reply, more daring with the hood to veil his identity. "And I'll teach you the names of the stars, and let you show me all the colors of the dawn."

He was reluctant to leave when they reached Thorin's small house. Kili's lips were starting to become sensitive from Fili's stubble, but he didn't pull away until noise in the street startled them. "Will you draw me again tomorrow?" asked he. "Will I see you then?"

"I shall lay awake all night in anticipation of it," Fili smiled, cupping his cheek. "Until tomorrow then, Kili," he leaned in for one last kiss. "I'll come at ten o'clock."

Above and around them started a drizzle that had been in the sky for some hours now. "I hope to catch you by yourself again soon. Is there a chance you'll leave your window open for me tomorrow night?" Kili had read of that in books. He would probably ruin some good clothes, but the reward would be worth it. Kissing him one last time, he whispered, "I should go now, before your uncle finds us. Good night, love." That said, he stepped back.

"I'm sorry, Kili," he squeezed his hand one more time, "but I sleep in the same room as my uncle. We only have two rooms." Shame flooded his face. "I could go to the kitchen, but I think he'd still be able to hear us. We'd have to plan to meet up somewhere else. Is there a room in your manor?"

Kili let out a chuckle. "Is there a room, you ask? The place is full of empty rooms nobody uses. You wouldn't get past the guards, but maybe..." Yes, there was one he could call a friend. "South Gate, ask for a man named Bifur. Tomorrow, or whenever you find the chance." Kili waved him a kiss. "Or if your uncle is away for business. We can make it work. We _will_ make it work." That said, he disappeared before anyone could find them there.

Fili slipped into Thorin's humble home with a sad sigh. The fire had died down to embers, so Fili sat by the hearth to coax it back to life by adding kindling and sod. It was when he was alone that Fili was able to think about the foolish idea he'd just proposed to the Master's son as he made himself a cup of tea.

"I am out of my mind," he said, holding his hands out to warm them, and yet he was smiling while he said it. A sane person would pack up and leave now. But Fili had never been known for his good judgment.

The door opened and closed behind him. A few seconds alter, Thorin sat down next to him on the floor and peered into the fire while he cleaned out his pipe. He didn't want to start, but he needed to eventually.

Thorin's hands shook. He scraped his throat, but the sound that came out was still hoarse. "He has gone back home?"

"Yes," Fili told his uncle. "We stopped by The Shire for a drink first. He really looks forward to opportunity to blend in with the crowd." 

Fili was quiet for a moment, because he wasn't sure what questions, if any, he should be asking. "Uncle," he finally said, because the silence was unnerving, "The Young Master and I...we've become _close_."

"You called him by his first name and he paid you no mind," Thorin sighed. "I noticed it, Fili. "I'm sure this must be exciting for you. A good-looking young man with a name and wealth, taking an interest in you." There was no other apparent way to deal with this crisis, for Thorin could not tell the whole truth. The consequences would be too severe, too painful. That did not mean Thorin liked needing to smother his nephew's budding love. "He must be easy to like, love even. But you know that, of course. Even so, he is impossible to keep. I warned you of him because I didn't want to have this conversation with you. You know he is promised to someone. Has been from birth. Now that he is formally an adult..."

Fili nodded. "He is a good, kind man, Uncle. Nothing at all like his father. It's terribly hard to imagine them being related. I tried so hard to heed your warnings, I swear it. But having spent time with Kili—having heard his thoughts and see him interact with people—I _have_ fallen for him." He sat the mug aside. "I know it's foolish. I know it. But I love him. And he loves me."

Thorin yearned to tell him that it was because they _weren't_ related. He could not. If he did, a life would be forfeit. Fili and Kili would never know, but Thorin would, and it would paint his relationship to his nephew in ugly colors. "Because he says so?" he scoffed. Why didn't Fili listen? "I wouldn't be surprised if he said that to a number of other men. You think you are the first one to have gained his fancy? He's not with any of them now, is he? So much for loyalty. Search for it within that house, and you'll find none. I am only trying to protect you. You deserve so much more than to be just another willing heart to that man."

It hurt Thorin to speak of Kili so. It wasn't Kili's fault, and the words he gave Fili were lies, all but the mention of loyalty. Thorin still seethed at the memory of how it had all gone to shreds, the Master's foul words after the tragedy and Dis' despondency. Fili must never know. Fili, who was in love and deserved happiness, but whom fate had delivered on the path of the one person who could not be that one. He took a deep breath. His next words broke Thorin's heart.

"It's impossible, Fili. Let him go before he lets you go."

Fili wasn't sure what he had expected his uncle to say after his confession, but this coldness, this _hatred_ took him by surprise. "I respect and love you very much, Uncle," he said in a barely controlled voice, unable to look at him, "otherwise I would have struck you for what you said about Kili." 

Fili stood and carried his tea to the fireplace, dumping it over the flames with a hiss. "I'll be going to sleep now," he announced, meeting Thorin's eyes. His own were full of tears. "And in the morning, I shall return to the manor and resume my responsibilities. I shall not speak to you of this again."

Fili turned and slipped through the doorway to their small bedroom.

Thorin looked up at the ceiling. Steam filled the area around the hearth, and for a while he liked being partially hidden by it. It was hard, to tell a grown man what not to do. His sister should have never agreed to him moving here, to the lake, upon which rested the city of the Master. All that Thorin could do was offer to shelter him in order to keep an eye on things, but he had failed. Fili and Kili had gotten to know each other and, despite his warning, had gotten along well. What was worse was that they were getting along too well. Thorin didn't want to be the one to tell him that the man he had come to love was forbidden. He was his uncle, not his father, and while he had often felt like a father, he wanted to see the boy happy. He wanted to accept the person his heart would come to belong to.

But not the one person he could not have.

How had this gotten so out of hand?

Thorin took a deep breath. There was nothing else he could do, or was there? He racked his brain for an answer. If the Master ever found out, then a man would die. But he couldn't send Fili away. He couldn't tell him either, or Kili would know, and Kili must never find out. He could try to obstruct them, yet if they found out that it was him, the wrong ties would break. Desperation wrapped its cruel hand around Thorin's heart.

There was no other way but to tell Fili everything. A lump formed in his throat. Thorin racked his brain for a few minutes, hoping for another way out. None came. The only way to prevent anything truly disastrous from happening—he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled himself up to knock on the bedroom door—was the truth.

"Fili, lad?" he whispered in the dark. "Can I talk to you?"

Fili had stripped down to his braies and lay on his pallet, staring at the ceiling above him. "What is it, Uncle?" he asked, voice tight.

Thorin braced himself. He didn't know how to begin. The words simply went missing as he tried to reach for them. After moments of organizing his thoughts, he came in and sat at the ledge of Fili's pallet. "It's not fair, what I just said," he took back what had upset the other. "He is more than worthy, Fili. I don't know his intentions with you, but I do know that him visiting you here, risking rumors, is more than he would have done for most others. But his family's fate has been twined closely with our family's for a long time. Your mother will have my head for this, but you should know some things before you decide on anything. Will you listen to me, Fili, and not judge me for it?"

Fili drew himself up on one elbow. Thorin was but a dim shape in the dark. "What do you mean... _our_ families? How is that even possible?"

The oil lamp was not lit, when Thorin decided to keep them in the dark as he spoke. "Twenty-one years ago," he said, "and a few months. Around the time we lost your little brother."

Fili sat up and pulled the blanket around his shoulders. Finally— _finally_ —someone was going to fill in the holes in his memory about that terrible time in their family's history.

\- - - - - 

**21 YEARS EARLIER...**

Dis was in the eighth month of her second pregnancy and her husband Nali insisted it was high time she took a break from midwifery. But how could she? Her most prestigious patient, her friend, Mistress Fianna, was about to give birth!

They had lived in the city by the lake all their lives in one capacity or another. Hard times had befallen them in recent years, yet they still remained in the good graces of the Master and Mistress Fianna. Nali tended and shore the sheep Dis used in her dyer-making business. He was often gone for days at a time up in the hills with the flock. Thankfully her brothers Thorin and Frerin lived with them. Frerin was an expert gem cutter who fashioned beautiful pieces of jewelry sought after by those in society. Thorin provided the Master and his guards with most of their weaponry. All in all, they lived better than most of the citizenry.

The Master sent his servant Alfrid to Dis's home the evening that Lady Fianna's water broke. 

"Mummy?" Fili, all of five, his hair a ball of cottony fluff, tugged at her skirts, "our baby's coming? My little brudder?"

"No, my love, not ours, not yet," she gave a nervous chuckle and smiled at her own brothers, eating dinner by the fire. "You'll stay with your uncles until I return, won't you, Fee? I'm going to help the Mistress have her wee one."

Fili wrinkled his small forehead, trying to understand. 

"Come, little cub!" Frerin scooped Fili up round his waist and hefted him over his head, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from him. "Uncle Thorin and I are dying to play horsies with you." Already Thorin was opening the box near the hearth where Fili kept his collection of small wooden and metal horses, crafted by his father and Thorin. "Bye, Mummy!" he cried, quite ready to play with his uncles.

"Should be a normal birthing," Dis assured her brothers, picking up her medical bag she kept by the door. "I'll be home by dawn, my loves." With a small wave, she followed Alfrid out into the night.

\- - - - 

It wasn't a normal birthing. The Master, usually brimming with youthful vitality, paced up and down in front of the room. His wife had been in there for more than six hours now, and there was still no sign of a child. Doors barred his passage, and while he could have the guards unlatch them and let him in because they would listen to his command, there were the women gathered around his wife that would throw him such foul looks that he'd slink back. No, he was told, better to wait this one out. Giving birth was messy and could take up to two days, Dis had told him.

Behind the oaken doors, she wiped sweat off her brow and pushed her hair back. "Breathe," she once again tried to get the Mistress Fianna's pulse to lower in an attempt to calm her down. The baby's head was crowning already. It wouldn't be long now. It took too long, though. The baby, boy or girl, should have been delivered by now. Much longer and both the mother and the child would be in danger of infection. And Lady Fianna had such unsuitably narrow hips, too. "Breathe," she said again, "listen to my voice, milady. Take a deep breath in." She paused, and smiled as her liege relaxed. "And out."

As the baby slowly—too slowly—made its way out, she noticed the umbilical cord wrapped around its little neck. It was alright, she told herself. Happened all the time. She would just cut it and make sure the baby was out as soon as Lady Fianna could make it so, before the baby started lacking in nutrients. "There the baby comes," Dis smiled in an attempt to get the lady on the birthing bed more at ease. "Now, I'm going to cut the cord, and then you will have to help me get it out. Just a little longer. We are almost there."

Lady Fianna panted and threw her head back. A laugh tinged with desperation and fatigue ripped from her throat, and she nodded. She was too far gone to question the cord being cut already, and let Dis do what she was best at. Carefully, clamps were placed on the cord, and scissors with a blunted end delicately wriggled in the right place. A snip, and mother and child were no longer connected.

"Push," Dis demanded. "Push all you can now!"

Fianna squeezed her eyes shut, clenched the sheets, and did as she was asked. Every ounce of her strength was depleted for the final bit.

It wasn't enough. She was too tired, her hips too narrow, and the contractions were not enough. Try as she might, it went too slow.

"Push!" Dis hissed again. "Push more!"

"I—I can't!"

"You must! Your child is starving, Milady. Push!" Dis tried whatever she could to pull the baby out, but she had no traction yet, not until the shoulders were out. Minutes ticked by, and Lady Fianna's desperation now resonated in her too. The child was suffocating. No longer breathing through her mother but not yet able to breathe on its own, its skin was slowly turning a bluish pallor.

When she cried out for her liege to push again, it was loud and with anguish. Her fingers tried what she could to pull it out. She had been too fast, too fast to cut the cord. With these circumstances, she should have waited longer.

No, she shouldn't allow herself to think that way. If she had waited, the child would have been choked by the cord without a chance.

Fianna cried aloud, dug her feet into the mattress, and arched her back up. And the child was born.

But no crying sounded from the birthing bed that night—except for a distraught mother's wail of anguish.

The Master, upon hearing the terrible, terrible news, rushed into Fianna's chamber and fell at his knees by her bedside. "My love, my love," he murmured, laying his forehead against her own. He rose and approached the bassinet, where Dis had just finished washing the still, small, otherwise perfect baby boy. "No!" the Master cried. "NO! This is your fault, Dis of Durin! I should have trusted my own instincts and not allowed any members of your family anywhere near my wife! Your family has nothing to lose and everything to gain by the death of this child! Tell me, did you strangle him with your own hands, bitch?" he dealt Dis a backhanded blow across the cheek and she fell to the floor.

"Husband, no!" Fianna cried out weakly. The ladies in waiting rushed to Dis's aid and helped her to her feet, where she swayed, holding onto her belly. 

"I want all of you out of this room, immediately!" he ordered the women attending to Fianna. "Except for you, midwife." When the women had scampered out, he turned to Dis. "As I see it, you owe me a baby. The failure of my heir to be born and to thrive falls upon your shoulders—upon the house of Durin. When your baby is born, that child shall be brought here to the manor and raised as my heir!"

"No!" Dis whimpered, holding her swollen belly with both hands. "You can't take my unborn child from me, from my family!" tears streamed from her eyes and a deep red mark arose across her cheekbone.

"Simple enough," the Master clapped his hands together. "You have a lovely young lad in your home. Golden hair, he has, just like my mother did. And still young enough that he could be taught to love us as his own parents. We shall take him instead."

"No, Master," Dis begged with him. "Please, please...reconsider. You are grieved. But understand, babies die every day. Fianna's hips were far too narrow to have given birth conventionally!"

"All the more reason that we should have your baby, then," the Master concluded. "It would only endanger Fianna further to try to conceive again. You, on the other hand, could have more children, Dis."

In the bed, Fianna, Dis's childhood friend, would not meet her eyes. "Husband," she said finally, "we must compensate the family." Her gaze fell upon the silent bassinet. "We will pay Dis and her family handsomely for the baby. Double if it is a son. They need the money."

"It would be a service to your Master," the Master loomed over Dis. "And you'll clearly recall the only reason your family still has a home in this town is because of my assistance."

Bereaved and terrified, Dis got slowly to her feet. "I will accept responsibility for the loss of your son," she bowed her head in defeat. "My family is ever grateful for your continued help, Master. When my baby is born, I shall deliver him to your home."

"No, woman," the Master insisted. "You will stay at home. Your husband and one of your brothers can do the deed. After the child has been brought here, and I have paid you for your trouble, you and your family will leave this town and take up residence in the mountains. Am I understood?"

Dis nodded, tears falling to land on her distended stomach. A look to her friend Fianna brought her no comfort. "You must promise to love the child, Fianna. Love him as your own."

Fianna could only nod.

"Get out," the Master told her. "Leave us to our dead child."

\- - - - -

And so it was done. Up to the birth of her child, Dis shied away from the others of her family. Her heart broke when Fili came up one morning and placed his hands on the belly with big eyes and a smile that said he couldn't wait. So young and yet he could sense it was about to be born soon. She hoped he would never know what was to be done after she gave birth to it.

Several weeks after the tragedy of the Master's stillborn heir, Dis went into labor. Her brothers and her husband were with her, but Fili was barred from the birthing bed.

When she came out of that room, her weak childless frame supported by Thorin's shoulder, tears ran down her face and she refused to look her son in the eyes.

It was a son. And he was dark-haired and beautiful.

Fili's brother.

Alive, but lost to them.

The cruelty of her fate kept her to Thorin's bed that night, with Thorin sleeping propped up against the wall and their hands linked even as she wailed. Nali and Frerin had taken the child from her to bring to the keep. She had not even been able to name it.

It was nearly morning when someone knocked on their door. Thorin, assuming the dreadful job to be done, expected not the palace guards that came in as soon as he opened the door.

That was when, only hours after the loss of her second son, Dis learned that she had lost her husband, too, and that Frerin would not return to them.

"Your husband attacked the Master," one of the guards explained, as Nali's bloodied body was dragged into their warm kitchen. "He was killed in the fracas that ensued."

Dis clasped a hand over her mouth. She could not allow the wail of horror to escape her. Fili was sleeping in the other room. 

"And our brother?" Thorin's voice trembled, fearing the worst.

"He lives," the guard explained. "The Master has decided he will detain him, to ensure the secret of the child's lineage is kept. He has asked us to give you this," he handed over a modestly-sized bag of coins. "You are to bury this one and leave town before the second sun rises, or he has asked us to return and retrieve your other son as well."

Weakened, Dis fell to the floor and clung to her husband's lifeless body, silent sobs wracking her frame. "I have lost them both. Lost them both," she lamented.

Thorin offered her as much support as he could, as the guards left the house. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened. It had been Nali who had suggested they leave and get as far away as they could when Dis returned from the palace and told them the news, but Thorin had convinced them otherwise, loath as he was to carry the burden of reason. Now his brother-in-law lay dead before him, and his brother was a hostage in the most powerful house of the region.

He had vowed that night that one day, he would make the Master pay, but that day had never come. Thorin saw Frerin once a year, courtesy of the same bastard who had his nephew believe he was heir to a duchy, in order to establish that Frerin still lived and their deal was upheld. They treated Frerin well—better than Thorin, Dis and Fili—but it was a gilded cage.

Dis never came to the city when they finally permitted Thorin. It was too hard for her. And so Thorin had kept an eye on the boy they had ironically called Kili, so akin to his true brother—the Lady Fianna's choice, he suspected—from a distance.

\- - - - - 

Tears flowed freely from Fili's eyes. All the pieces had locked into place—the way Kili had so many of Thorin's features, the similarities in their hands, the looks of shame his uncle had given him that evening. Kili was his brother—the brother he'd thought dead all those years ago. And they had become _lovers._

"Gods, Thorin..." he wept, "how could you let them take him away? Take them both away?"

"It was not in my power," Thorin spoke with regret. "If it were, then you would have grown up knowing your brother. Not like this. He must never know, Fili. They'll kill Frerin if he does. Imagine the Duke's heir, at a viable age, suddenly turning away from them. The Master will go down without an heir, and the family loses the throne. He will not take that kindly. And there's no telling what Kili will do. You must understand, I want what's best for the both of you, but this way..."

"You want me to just return to the Blue Mountains? Never tell mother I know the truth? Say goodbye to my love—to my _brother_ —and simply go?"

"I don't know, Fili. I don't have answers. You weren't supposed to even come here, but you insisted, and here we are. I tried to keep you out of the mess we are in now." Thorin breathed out. It was colder here. How he wished he could fall asleep and wake up to it having all been a bad dream. "I'm not expecting anything from you but to consider what you want to do now, knowing the consequences. Returning home to your mother would make me very happy, I admit, but it's too late for that now."

It was easy, Fili supposed, for Thorin to blame the current situation on him. Fili had ignored Thorin's advice. He'd done the worse possible thing a person could do. But how was he to have known? Even in his worst nightmares, he could not have imagined a more horrible revelation. He'd had sex with his brother. He was a sinner of the worst kind. What he did next would truly determine what kind of man he was.

"You're right, Thorin. I should return home to Mother," he acquiesced. "I shall go to Kili tomorrow and tell him there's been an emergency. That I've been," he swallowed past a lump in his throat, "that I've been called away." He was so ashamed he felt ill. 

Thorin stood. "We will have a rest. And then a day and a night more. I blame you for nothing, nephew. You could not have known. But I ask that you give me your answer when you've given it thought and I'm sure it's not an answer you might regret." 

He hoped it would be the same answer, but as he moved to the door, then slipped under the blanket of his pallet, he didn't want a rushed decision to be the wrong one and come between them. Enough had been skewed already.

Fili, meanwhile, huddled under his blanket and rolled to the wall, the small stone Kili had carved for him held close to his heart in one cold fist.

There was little sleep for either of them that night.


	10. Memory and Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Fili shares his plans to run away with Ori. He realizes he cannot deny his love for Kili.

Fili was exhausted the next morning, but he knocked promptly on the back door of the Master's manor at 10 o’clock.

"Ori," he smiled softly when the redhead answered, "good morning."

Ori returned the wishes and stepped aside. It was a gloomy day, reflected in the Master's chambers being more subdued than they usually were, but it didn't seem to bother the hand servant. "Kili has been up since sunrise," he admitted. "I can guess what makes him so eager for you to paint him. We will be doing the base for the painting today, won't we?" He deposited Fili in the room with his master, then bowed. "I'll be back shortly with food and orange juice."

The moment the door closed, Kili flung his arms over Fili's shoulders and his fingers carded lazily through Fili's golden hair, bringing his lips dangerously close to his lover's. "I've not been able to stop thinking about what we talked about last night. Have you?"

Fili nodded. "I barely slept a wink," he answered honestly. He held Kili at arm's length, eyes sweeping over his features as if to memorize him. "Oh, _Kili,_ " he whispered and hugged him to him tightly and possessively. "Kili."

The younger man laughed and pulled him equally close, though he frowned at there being something odd about the exchange that he couldn't pinpoint to something tangible. "Did I keep you up?" he considered aloud. "I'd offer you my bed, but I don't think I can keep my hands off you if you took me up on it." He leaned in for a kiss that had every intention of lasting, until the door opened and Kili quickly scrambled back, licking his lips with promise and mirth from where Ori couldn't see him. "I should change soon, I think. What will we do today?"

Fili swiped at his eyes, fingers coming away wet. "Ori mentioned something about the base of the painting. I'm guessing some sort of order has come down from the Master about it? He has yet to consult me. Does that sit with you? Have you thought of where you might want me to officially paint you?"

"Ah, actually," Ori pointed out, "he has time in a few minutes for us to go see him and discuss the matter. He says he is looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Though," he added quieter, "it might be wise not to make it look like it's going to trump his own portrait." He put some food on the table and walked to sit down, ready for whenever either of them needed him.

Kili reached for a bit of cheese. "The garden. It's not as formal, but it should be formal enough. And once you have permission, you can always add birds and flowers and make it less stiff."

"I should draw you with a crown of flowers and rabbit in your lap, then," Fili smiled, lovingly moving an errant lock of hair from Kili's forehead. His hand trembled. "The Master will see me?" 

Fili felt a little ill, unsure if he could face the man after what Thorin had told him the night before. Surely, the Master remembered his father. Surely, he _knew._ That thought chilled him.

"Well, it hardly seems right not to take the credit for your skill," said Kili, and Ori acquiesced with a nod. "It'll be quick. He will just say yes or no, and in the case that he says no, he'll have to give you a description of what he does want. If that's not to my liking, I'll object. Then we retreat. I don't want to waste time with my dad that we could be spending on the portrait." Kili couldn't wait to catch Fili alone again. He had half a mind to send Ori away on an errand to make more time available. That wouldn't be fair on Ori though, who certainly understood what was going on.

Fili nodded, straightening his tunic. "Do I look suitable for an audience with the Master?" he wondered. Who was he kidding? He wore the same clothing over and over. His mother might have been a weaver, but rarely were they able to afford to keep any of the clothing for themselves. "Oh, bother," he frowned. "Let's get it over with, Kili."

Ori pushed the doors open and let them through. Nobody asked him to come along, yet he knew they wanted him there. Carrying under his arm some of Fili's sketches, Ori led them up to a side office to the Great Hall. Red dominated the space, along with towering windows and cases upon cases of parchment. 

In its midst sat the Master, wielding a quill and looking up as they entered. "Ah, Kili, son! I was beginning to wonder when I would see something of that painting of yours. You're here to show me? Come, step forward, step forward, and let me see what your painter has made of you."

Before Fili could protest, Ori placed the folder on the desk in front of the Master, bowed, and stepped back. Kili didn't lose his spirits at the face of the man who had raised him as his own seeing the sketches. "I have some favorites," he spoke up before the Master could. "The rest of the sketches you can consider a demonstration of his skill."

Fili should have been nervous, and he was...a bit. But anger was rapidly overtaking any fear he had. His hands, held carefully in check at his sides, clenched and unclenched sporadically, yet his face remained impassive as the Master perused his work. He felt naked and on display.

Ori offered him a sympathetic look, while Kili was primarily paying attention to his father's response. He longed to squeeze Fili's hand or do something else to let him know he supported him, but to show anything closer than a professional relationship in front of the Master was dangerous, and Kili was so transparent when something was important to him. Better not to risk it. "Here, this one," he pointed at the sketch currently under the Master's attention. It was the garden sketch. "I prefer this one. What do you think?"

"What do I think?" The Master observed it critically. "In the _garden_ , Kili? Not in a stateroom? You could have the garden showing through in the windows if you are that bent on it, but..."

"That's the one I want," Kili responded stubbornly. "It's my present. You do not have to like it. All we need to know is whether it's acceptable."

"The _gardens_?"

"And why not?"

"Why not a stateroom?"

Kili scoffed. "Staterooms are boring. What do you have against the gardens? They're regal and they show culture. They show I take an interest in the land, instead of being surrounded by charts and books. Everyone knows that is not me."

"They make you whimsical."

Ori exchanged a look with Fili as Kili exclaimed, "Whimsical? They show humility! Which would be a pleasant change in this house!"

The Master was ready to make an incredible fuss over his son's mood. He looked at him thunderously, closed the book he was writing in, and groomed his mustache. But the Master knew Kili's tantrums, and he was not in the mood for it now. "I tell you what," he spoke with finality. "You will have a stateroom portrait. Anything else is yours to decide. Add a pair of flamingos if you like. But have it in a stateroom. That is the end of our discussion."

Kili stared at the man. He was about to protest, before his thoughts caught on something else. "Anything, you say?"

"Anything," the Master said wearily.

Promptly Kili shook his hand, closed the folder and handed it back to Fili. "Deal!" Then he walked briskly out of the room.

During the exchange the Master did not speak to Fili, nor did he even deign to look at him. It made Fili feel as insignificant as a fly on the wall. Less so, for a fly would at least be swatted away. And yet, he was impressed with the way Kili handled the Master. Fili longed to tell Kili everything he had learned from Thorin last night, but he would not, _could_ not. Thorin's face had been so filled with worry when he spoke of Frerin. One of them had already lost his brother...why should Thorin as well?

"What was that all about?" Fili asked, when they'd collected his works and walked down the hallway a bit. "What are you thinking, Kili?"

"When we're in my chambers," Kili only said. He brushed his hand against Fili's and marched on, Fili and Ori in tow, opened the door for them and actually waited for them to pass before closing it. Kili grinned. "Anything. What does that make you think, Fili? What possibilities do you see for a stateroom? You're the artist. I'm thinking, it could be dark outside, or we could stuff the place with plants and make a jungle of it. You could even draw me with the flower crown. A stateroom, he says. We're free to decide on everything else. Surely there are masterpieces to be made upon the base of a dull stateroom?"

"I like how you think, Kili," Fili smiled sadly, "but I fear to paint you as anything less than a figurehead will earn me a spot in the Master's dungeons."

"With Ori is my witness, they are words from his own mouth. As long as we don't ridicule him, he has no traction on us. And besides, I would not allow it. I'd bear the responsibility if you need me to. Besides, it doesn't have to be crazy. Every stateroom has a door and a window. You could place me in such a way that it's not even discernible as a stateroom to anyone who doesn't know the room itself."

Fili chuckled. "Your wild streak is quite a point of fascination, Young Master." His hand brushed gently over the back of Kili's as they walked. "Why don't you choose the room and Ori and I can do the rest?"

Kili looked to Ori. He knew they were both thinking of the same thing. The south stateroom. It would have brilliant light late in the afternoon, and was always used for company with late appointments to make use of the sunset. "Let's pack our stuff and go," he smiled. 

They transferred to the room with little trouble. Ori tugged a large trunk behind him on their way, getting Kili's outfit along, as well as some refreshments during the day, and Kili offered to rest several times, but Ori would have none of it. It was a dull room this time of the day though. Stately, with rigid classical architecture. "Wait until you see the light at the end of the day," Kili whispered, then, "Where do you want me?"

 _In my arms,_ Fili's mind supplied the answer. _In my bed, in our own cozy, safe cottage near the end of a small mountain town._ Then, he swallowed back his longings and said, "Why don't you get dressed and stand in that corner where the light is best right now?" He pointed, then turned to his own bag of supplies so Kili couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

But Ori didn't miss them.

Choosing silence, for Fili plainly hid his emotions from Kili, Ori waited for a moment alone. Meanwhile he made sure to do anything he could to cheer Fili up. Although he knew not what the reason was, there had to be something he could do. He offered him food when Fili was staring and he chatted with Kili all the time, all in hopes of distraction. And Kili, Kili didn't notice a thing as he stood perfectly still for the portrait.

There was something between them. A blind man could see that. So whatever the reason for Fili to keep Kili out of the loop like he obviously did, it saddened Ori. He wasn't eager to see them stealing kisses constantly, but he didn't like this other side of the coin either.

At noon he got up and announced that he needed to get lunch, and asked Fili along. "To stretch his legs," he said, which made Kili pout at him as he stood chained to the room in his layers of delicate fabric. Ori apologized and offered to do his best to bring him a slice of cake from the four o'clock cake. Kili, predictably, relented. The four o'clock cake wasn't supposed to be sliced until four o'clock, after all.

When they were at a safe distance, Ori stopped in his steps. "Are you all right?" he wondered. "Something bothers you..."

Warm afternoon sun streamed down on them as they walked through one of the manor's many courtyards. It wouldn't be long before those tiny green buds on the trees would flower and the land would awaken to Spring time. Fili could smell it in the air. Change. Renewal. He had always associated these smells with new beginnings and inspiration. Now they would remind of the pain and remorse he was holding in his heart.

"Oh, you know," he waved one hand carelessly, "it's just me coming to the realization that what everyone has said is true. Despite what seemed like a very passionate time with Kili, I know I cannot have him. Our love simply cannot be. I suppose I'm in a sort of mourning, Ori," he led his friend to a bench and sat upon it. "When the portrait is complete, I'll be traveling back home."

Ori didn't want to point out that everyone saying that—the few people who knew or had an inkling about Kili being in love with a man in general—was indeed true, and Fili had known his chances before he had started anything. That was not what Fili wanted or even needed to hear, let alone that it made Ori feel like he was rubbing salt in the wounds. Ori did want Kili to be happy, like Fili did. Fili was a good man. It was a cruel fate. 

"Forgive me if I should not be talking about this," Ori cut to the subject carefully, "but when he returned from your visit last night, he...well, you see, Kili knows it cannot be. He doesn't want it to be like that, but he knows that it is. It's inherent to his status, you see. But last night, when he came back from his visit, for the first time in ages he sounded hopeful. I don't know what you told him, but I think he _believes_ in that. He believes there is a way."

Fili bit his lip to hold back on saying something he shouldn't. "Last night, he'd gotten me a bit drunk, and I was talking out of my head. Talking about," he whispered, squeezing Ori's hand "running away—all three of us. That just isn't possible, is it, Ori? It's madness, in fact." 

Ori's eyes widened. Running away wasn't something Kili had mentioned before. "Well," he cleared his throat, keeping close attention on his surroundings to make sure nobody overheard, "he must have seen the merits of the plan, because it filled him with hope. I wouldn't say it isn't possible, but it's very, very hard. But the three of us? Are you sure?" He would make that sacrifice for Kili, he would. Ori however didn't look forward to being a permanent odd man out.

Fili again felt that familiar leap of hope, and he too checked his surroundings carefully before speaking. "Think of it, Ori! Out _there,_ you wouldn't be anyone's servant. We'd be three friends, traveling together, maybe living together. You'd have the opportunity to pursue whatever trade you wanted to. You'd finally have the chance to fall in love..." his voice trailed off. "You'd have time and permission to do anything you wanted. The three of us, we'd take care of one another, like...like brothers."

Oh, it sounded so appealing. "Except you and Kili wouldn't be much like brothers, would you be?"

Fili's hand tightened on Ori's to the point of being uncomfortable. "I-I don't know," he whispered.

"I do." Ori shrugged. "He's crazy about you, and I can tell that it's mutual. He doesn't get like that usually, you know. I wouldn't mind. We could live together and you could be anything you want to be, and I wouldn't mind. But it's a dangerous plan. If they catch us, you and I would be in serious danger."

"Ori," Fili met his eyes, "you are under no obligation to join us. It's only my love for you—and perhaps selfishness in wanting to have you around—that I ask. But I would never, ever, want to put you in danger. If you feel you'd like to stay behind, you will have complete deniability of our plans, I promise you that."

He nervously leaned in further. "Tell me, are you aware of, or do you know, if there is a gem cutter secreted somewhere here in the manor?"

Fili sounded serious enough about something that had come on the table while he had been inebriated. Ori smiled down. Even if they were dreams, they were hope, and no tears. He started walking to the kitchen again. Kili would start to wonder if they took much longer. "Hold onto those thoughts, all right?" Ori asked. "I'll think about it." 

He took a second longer to consider why Fili would need a gem cutter. Probably for a gift for Kili, he surmised. Ori felt warm. He cared a lot for his master, that much was sure. "We have actually got a few, down in the royal forges. That's not too far from here. Are you looking for a type in specific? We've also got silver smiths to wrap them into rings, and those specialized in ore purification. Would you like me to take you there after today's session?"

"I would like to see where they work, yes," Fili told him, "but something tells me that the particular gem cutter I'm interested in may have his own private studio." Fili got up and stretched. "We should probably get back to poor Kili. He's no doubt going mad in those heavy clothes."

Ori laughed. "I bet he's fallen down on the bed and picking at the hems, yes. Who is the one you're interested in?" He didn't care that Fili sounded like he was brushing the topic off. If he had a thought and it involved a gem cutter, and a specific one at that, then Ori would make sure Fili made his way to that man's studio. "If you give me his name now, I'll ask Bofur this afternoon. He knows almost everybody by name."

"I—" Fili wasn't sure what to tell Ori, "you know what? I don't recall his name. He was an old friend of Uncle's. But I'm sure I'd know him if I saw him." 

Fili didn't want to get in trouble for asking the wrong kinds of questions, but the idea of his poor Uncle Frerin having been a prisoner all these years...it broke his heart.

"Then we'll simply go there and you can see if you recognize him. Unless you want to wait until a later day." Ori really had no qualms about taking Fili there, though he looked like he was backing out, and Ori didn't want to pressure him into anything anyway. He took him to the kitchens and gestured for him not to mention anything about their previous communication, loaded him with food and took that back to Kili.

"I would like to see where your jewelers work," Fili admitted on the walk back. Even if he didn't find or recognize Frerin—and truth be told, his five-year-old's memory had placed Frerin as a neighbor or friend of the family and he barely remembered him—at least he'd have a chance to meet the artisans and watch them work. 

True to his suspicions, Kili had found a small piece of stone and was idly chafing off chips while he lay on the couch. Stone ground to dust spread around him on expensive covers. Ori didn't understand why Kili had been going for burgundy in all of his garments lately like he had gotten tired of all other colors. He bounced up at their sight and clumsily made it back to where he was supposed to be. "What did you bring?"

Fili smiled at Kili, producing a small basket they'd put together in the manor's kitchen...fruit, bread, beef and cheese and a half pitcher of cold milk from the ice house.

"What have you made, then?" Fili wondered.

Kili placed the stone in his hand. It was a sandy color this time, speckled with white and black flecks—no doubt to supplement Fili's green tree. While it was still rough, it already had the beginnings of a raven. "I'll make a second one just like it soon," he said. "The two ravens, Memory and Thought." As easily as he had been sculpting the stone, he put it away in a bag, dusted off his hands, and reached for the bread. Breaking off a fair morsel, he handed it to Fili and then took one for his own. "This'll be a very ordinary portrait in the end, won't it be?" he wondered. "Well. You're making it, so it will be special nonetheless."

"I'd like to wear it, your raven, on a leather string 'round my neck," Fili told him with a smile. "I can promise you, Kili, I will capture your essence—your vim—regardless of whatever stuffy setting the Master would place you in." Fili, whose stomach was in knots, placed the food back on the tray. "Take some time to eat, then we'll get back to work."

"It'll be payment for when you're done," Kili smiled. "Just the one." The other was to be for himself. He didn't know where the notion had come from, but he liked them both owning one piece of a pair. He fell back and ate his food diligently, patting the seat next to him for one of them to sit down. If his eyes kept moving back to Fili's form, well, he was quite the lovely sight after all. Fili probably didn't know he had a small smear of white running on his cheek. "Come here," he mumbled around a mouthful of food at last. "You should eat."

Fili moved with reluctance to sit down next to Kili. "Truly, I-I had a big breakfast at home with Uncle," Fili told him. "I'm still quite full." But he was happy to simply sit and watch Kili eat. Kili took such enjoyment from each bite, rolling his eyes in bliss at the sweetness of a grape. He was adorable. Fili's stomach roiled with the sadness of all the time he had missed out on, being able to grow up alongside Kili. He'd been cheated out of something he could never regain.

Kili understood that Fili was not hungry. He had seen the size of a regular meal astound him, so he knew that a large meal was not in the cards for them unless he helped him eat it. He sat up and leaned his weight against him. "I had your sketch framed. Dad won't let me hear the end of it. A simple sketch, he keeps saying. No worth in that. But I like it. Please take your time painting me. I don't mind if you take extra long. In fact, I'd insist you would."

With the proximity, the urge to turn to Kili and simply kiss him was strong. Fili's mind was suddenly filled with the passionate thrill he had felt sitting next to Kili up in the observation tower. The thrill of promise and discover. Could he ever feel that way again? Right now he could barely breathe, his lungs crushed under the shame of what he had done.

But then a realization came to him. He hadn't known. How _could_ he have known Kili was his brother? He wasn't to blame for this, and it surely didn't make him a sinner? Their love was pure, born of mutual admiration and attraction. He couldn't allow Thorin's revelation to ruin that for him.

"I could look at you for days," Fili smiled, putting a hand on Kili's thigh, "not painting, just looking. Then, only when I tired of that, finally I'd pick up a brush."

His words cast a glow on Kili, the way only a man in love could look. "You make me wish you'd never pick up that brush." He leaned in and whispered, well aware of Ori who must be feeling awkward, "Any chance that I get you to myself again soon?"

Ori cleared his throat meaningfully. For all Kili's discretion, he had heard him loud and clear. Ori wasn't mad though—in fact, a smile played around his lips. "Call me a fool, but if you need an alibi, I could provide one. Not this afternoon. I promised to take Fili somewhere. But if you need one for dinner?"

Fili's hand made the decision for them, sliding up the inside of Kili's thigh and under the fold of his tunic. "I think that would be wonderful, Ori," he said, but his smoldering eyes never left Kili's dark ones. "If it's not too much trouble. I'm sure Kili can find a way to make it up to you."

 _Morals be damned,_ Fili thought to himself. _I want him_.

"R-right, right," Ori stammered when shifting at the sight of the hand. "You know, I feel like going for a quick walk. I'll knock twice fast, twice slow. Back in a few, okay?" He longed to give them their privacy, and it made him slightly uncomfortable to be around such borderline seductive display of affection. Quickly he scampered off and closed the door behind him.

Kili was on Fili in a beat, straddling him despite the garments and kissing him like only that could nourish him. Fingers traced his jaw insistently, and he sighed. "I fear I'm becoming addicted to you."

"Me too, Kili," Fili nodded, caressing his cheek. The tears he'd been trying to hold back spilled forth. "I'm sorry," he wiped them away with both hands. "The past few days...have been very emotional. I'm not used to a lot of excitement in my life. Kili, I love you," he admitted, hoping it wouldn't scare the other man away forever. 

"You cry for such a wonderful feeling?" Kili asked of him. "I feel it too, Fee. There's warmth in me that I never knew could exist there. I lie awake at night and I break into a smile for no reason other than thinking of you." It was driving Ori crazy, but Kili couldn't stop. There was no off-switch. He didn't know how to deal with these new feelings. Kili was overcome with the need to have him close, and when Fili was not, he felt incomplete. Like something was missing. Kili kissed him continuously between speaking. "I love you, Fili. I believe I would go to the end of the earth with you if you'll have me. No woman shall bear me an heir, for I can't imagine being with anyone but you."

Fili gasped at Kili's surprising revelation. "Kili," he whispered, "I'm not crying because of the love I feel. I'm crying because our love cannot be. The Master..."

"Has no say over who I love," Kili said resolutely. "I've thought this over, I know what I'm saying. I _want_ to run away with you. I know I have a reputation of being impulsive, but I've never been more sure about anything than I am about this."

There was only one thing keeping Fili from being completely overjoyed—Frerin's fate. He could not run off with Kili impulsively, leaving Frerin to suffer. And no doubt, he would. Still, he hugged Kili tightly and asked, "Will you be able to get gold—travel money?"

"Probably." Kili shrugged. "I know I'm probably going to regret this, but it's not at the top of my priorities. As long as it's with you and there is nothing keeping us apart. I don't want all that, not at the cost at which it comes." He trailed fingers down and up under Fili's tunic. "I've thought this through. Trust me. I know what I want. I just never knew that I could." Kili started a path of kisses just under Fili's ear. He was getting turned on just hearing Fili breathe.

"It's a valid concern, Kili," Fili slipped his arms around Kili's waist and held him tightly. "For food, clothing, medicine, shelter. The world can be harsh—out there," he tipped Kili's face up and looked him in the eyes. "I want to keep you safe. You and Ori, if he'll join us."

Kili looked at him with a near-devotion. "I do want to take him with us," he admitted. "He doesn't fit into this place with any other master. Not that I consider myself his master, but you know what I mean. If we need money, then give me time. It'll be my money, not my father's. If I took from him, he'd hunt me to the edge of the world for it."

Ori's knock came too soon. "Hold on!" Kili called out. He kissed Fili until he was sure the taste and touch of his lips would remain on Fili's as a memory, then tidied himself and got up. "I love you," he whispered. "We will make it work."

Fili only smiled and nodded, busying himself with his palette and mixing. "We're ready to work then, Ori," he told the redhead when he entered the room. "Sorry to have chased you away."

Ori nodded in understanding. "Your hair is a mess, Kili," he fussed. "Oh, this will never do," he bemoaned, moving around behind Kili to straighten him out.

Fili watched the affectionate display, and warmth began to spread through him. He realized, as he reached for the umber paint, that the warmth that he was feeling was hope.


	11. To Stay so Strong, and so Silent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili and Fili include Ori in their plan to run away. Thorin and Fili have a heart-to-heart talk.

That afternoon, Kili stood as silent as he could. He offered secret smiles that were fleeting enough for Fili to doubt whether they had been there, for they were gone after a blink, but for the remaining part he did everything by the book. Something thrummed inside him. It was a good feeling and surprisingly, it calmed him more than it made him restless.

Ori fluttered around when either Kili or Fili needed something. When he wasn't doing anything, he sat comfortably on the couch with a sketchpad on his lap, tracing lines. Kili smiled at him too. Yes, things were going to be just fine. Maybe it would take some time, but he wasn't yet engaged to be married and Fili wasn't yet done with his portrait; they had that time.

The sun slowly crept lower and the skies colored a salmon sunset behind him. The light painted Fili and Ori before him in a soft yellow. He had never truly studied light, but Kili did so now. It was marvelous, how the shadows behind them appeared nearly blue, and how the lights caught on their hair and softened skin. But soon it became too dark to continue working, and he expected Fili's announcement that this was enough for the day soon.

Kili had been correct about the room. As late afternoon's golden rays fell across its inhabitants, it gave everything an ethereal quality. Kili, already handsome, became practically angelic. His skin glowed and Fili longed to touch it. Instead he used his brush to trace the curves of Kili's face on canvas.

Kili looked every bit the duke he'd been brought up to become, Fili decided, admiring his own handiwork. The brunet had certainly perfected regal posture and an impassive yet receptive and approachable expression. How lucky he had been to grow up so privileged, with so many opportunities. Fili wasn't jealous of that; he was happy for his brother.

His _brother._ The word felt so foreign to his brain that he couldn't imagine saying it out loud.

"Sadly, we've lost the light," Fili announced eventually. How the day had flown. "Do you think we could get some dinner somewhere? I'd love to see what you've drawn, Ori. I'm sure Kili would as well."

While Ori made an attempt at shielding away his work, Kili made sure the encumbering layers were disposed of. It left him standing there looking almost naked in breeches and naught but a thin shirt, until he drew a robe around himself and sat down on the couch next to Ori merrily. "I'd love to, yes." His head tilted to lean on Ori's shoulder, and Kili looked up at Fili. "Would your uncle appreciate being invited over for a dinner for just the four of us?"

"Oh!" Ori sat up. His sketches were doomed to be seen by Kili sooner or later, and he gave them up. "I was supposed to show you a place!"

"What place?" Kili wondered.

Ori shook his head. "Secret. Isn't it?" he asked Fili.

"Well, it _was_ ," Fili bit his lip nervously. "But I must admit, I'm more hungry than anything. And as for Thorin...I think an invitation can wait. He's overburdened with work right now because of that mine collapse," he liked. "But if there's extra food, I'd be happy to take it to him." Fili sat down on Ori's other side. "Show us what you've done, then?"

Ori floundered as he showed the sketches. There were three of them, and coarse in technique. He hadn't bothered with details yet, aiming to get the general pose right first. They were decent sketches—two of Kili, and one of Fili as he drew. Ori cringed. "I'm a little out of practice. I'd love it if you had points of improvement, but they were doodles more than they were serious sketches."

To his right, Kili disagreed. "They're actually very good! You should take up painting sometime. Right, Fee?"

"This is how I look when I work?" Fili smiled, blushing a bit. "You make me look so poised—so in command," he traced the lines of his hair, then reached for Ori's hand, squeezing it. "I haven't seen anything you've drawn since you were small, Ori. It's wonderful. You're wonderful." He was picturing Ori, in repose, by a mountain lake, allowed to sketch and draw on his own time. He liked the image very much.

"He should be doing your portrait," Fili admitted to Kili. "Why did you even bother looking outside the manor walls when you have all the talent you need right here, laying out your clothing?"

"Because dad would never allow it," Kili muttered. "That's why. I would have bought him oils if I wouldn't have had to justify it with a lie. Servants are not supposed to entertain a pastime of their own. At least not one that costs money. But if I'd known he liked it that much, I guess I would have made more of an effort." He offered Ori a guilty look.

His servant shrugged quietly. "You never treated me badly. That's more than a lot of others can say about their liege."

Kili didn't feel like a liege—more like a brother to Ori. He closed the folder carefully and handed it back. "Time for dinner. And I'll make sure you get more time for drawing if you want it."

The exchange warmed Fili's heart. Growing up, Ori had been the closest thing to a brother he had had—and it was for all too short a time. Now, he had been given a second chance with Kili. How would he use it? 

His first thought brought a strong blush to his cheeks, so he turned to his paint box to begin tidying up in the dim light 

If only he could tell Kili the truth.

Ori made it so they smuggled Kili out under the pretense that he and Fili needed to discuss the direction of the painting, covered in a cloak, and into one of the finer taverns of the city. They had a decent meal, mostly because the keeper saw he was dealing with royalty. He offered them a room, in his kindness forgetting that Kili had better lodgings in his own house which stood within a walking distance.

It was a beautiful night in its simplicity. Just food and good company, and the allowance to simply sink into a corner and watch others instead of having to entertain anyone. Kili's eyes were mostly on Fili. He studied his features and wondered what it was that appealed to him so. That Kili found him attractive stood beyond doubt, though he found his opinions changing compared to when they’d met. Never before had he been so attracted to a set of eyes.

He was going to run away with this man. His fate was sealed. "Ori?" he wondered, "if I were to go on a long trip far from here, would anyone think that strange?"

Ori gaped at him for a moment and it was obvious the redhead was trying to carefully craft his response. "Your father would want you to be well-traveled," he concluded. "You should survey all the lands you are to rule over. Any duke should. I do hope I'd be allowed to come with you."

Fili, whose hunger had finally caught up with him, leisurely tucked into his half chicken and potatoes, pausing only occasionally to use his napkin to wipe away the grease and ale. He smiled at Ori's request.

Kili chose instead to start with a drink. He took great pleasure in putting the glass back down on the left side of his plate, as opposed to common etiquette. The Master would be appalled. It was slightly awkward, but incredibly refreshing. "Of course you'd come along. You're with me. I wouldn't be able to take Fili along, but I'm sure we could run into each other on the road by chance. They say the South is beautiful this time of the year. What do your think?"

"I think," Ori's eyes met both of their meaningfully, "that a trip might be just the proper thing to get you out of your doldrums. I've heard it's far warmer to the south, once travelers get out of the mountains proper. I have even heard tell of a body of water so large the water comes in in waves."

"The sea," Fili said wistfully. "Mother used to speak of it fondly. She told me there are many colonies of artists down that way. Towns of people populated by artists, farmers, and service people—midwives, physicians, and the like—and that they all look out for one another, paying one another with their skills and kindnesses. No one lives in poverty there. No one lives in need."

"No one?" Ori marveled. "I cannot believe it, Fili. That surely must be a tall tale."

"They simply don't allow anyone to suffer," Fili pushed a fruit turnover in Ori's direction. "It's unheard of."

That must be a marvelous place." To be allowed kindness to those Kili's rank deemed lower of status without anyone looking twice, and to be treated in the same way by those who would look at him with a sharp dislike here. "My father wouldn't want to come along to a place like that unless we make plans with a noble family there." They weren't talking of any ordinary trip. Kili licked his lips. "At least several months, with the funds necessary to pay for it."

"I'm not sure you'll find any noblemen or noblewomen there," Fili cautioned him. "It's practically... uncivilized. At least, The Master would deem it so. And yet, here, where we consider ourselves civilized, I saw a poor old woman with open sores on her skin, begging for scraps outside this very establishment. Perhaps she would like this turnover," he slipped it into his pocket while none of the serving staff was looking.

Ori followed his example, and Kili shared bits of his own meal with them to cover up their plan. He smiled with mischief. "When would be the best time for such a trip? Surely we must not wait too long, or the season for travel is over and we'd have to wait a year. Fili, what would your uncle say of it?"

"I wouldn't want to alarm him," Fili said evenly. "I'd probably tell him I was on my way back to Mother's home. Indeed, I'd have to stop and see her before I were to meet up with the two of you. I couldn't leave without saying goodbye." He struggled not to let his voice break. "I do wish you could meet her too, Kili."

"I could, if we took a small detour." Kili smiled at him warmly. "I'd love to meet her. After all I've heard about her from you and Ori, it'd be wonderful if I could meet her for myself. She means so much to you. The least I can do is show her my gratitude for raising you." He cut into his food and took a bite slightly too large for his mouth. The result was comical. Kili couldn't get enough of finally being able to do as he pleased. He had always thought table manners were overrated. It was such a relief to do something different for a change.

Fili reached beneath the table and squeezed Kili's hand. It felt so _right,_ the two of them. The _three_ of them, Fili amended. He was nervous about taking Kili away from all this. People could be so cruel and unforgiving. A streak of protectiveness surged through him.

"Mother will love you," Fili concluded, patting his own overfilled stomach "and it will give Ori a chance to see his family again as well." He leaned back in his chair and a yawn split his face.

"Perhaps we should be going," Ori ventured.

"Just a little longer?" Kili asked him. He leaned back and simply enjoyed the moment. Nobody was there to tell him to hurry or to sit straight; it was just him, his best friend and the man who had stolen his heart. Kili didn't need to talk. He simply enjoyed sitting there.

When they were stretching time, he finally reluctantly sat straight. "We should probably go now. Would your uncle be okay with seeing me drop you off, or is it wiser to have Ori escort you?"

"Ori should be escorting you, Kili," Fili rolled his eyes at the obvious. "You're precious cargo." He gathered up the leftovers they'd amassed for the beggar woman and slipped the turnover from his satchel to add to it.

After Kili paid and they left the restaurant, Fili found the woman a few buildings away. "My lady," he knelt down to be on her level, "my friends and I had a lot left over from our meal. We'd like you to have some. There's bread, a turnover and some chicken as well. I hope you enjoy it."

"Bless you," she said softly, reaching up to cup Fili's cheek, "bless you for your kindness, sirs."

"Bless you for your suffering," Fili squeezed her hand. "Would that we could see an end to it," he added softly. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a few silver coins. "It isn't much," he told her, placing it meaningfully into her hand, "but it should feed you for a few days. Do you have a place to stay?"

"My husband passed earlier this year," she told them, "and I haven't been able to weave anymore due to my rheumatism," she held up her gnarled fingers. "My funds ran out and I lost my home. I sleep where I can. Don't you worry about me, young man. I still have my resources," she tapped her temple. 

"I shall worry about her, of course," Fili told them, when the trio was a block away. "Once winter comes, she won't make it."

"Don't say that," Kili said sadly. "Even if she won't, I don't want to consider her dead already. Let her live a little until then." He made a note to ask Ori later to keep an eye on her, refraining from asking right now only because of Fili's presence. Kili didn't want to be doing things and make him feel like he was doing it to impress him. He wrapped his cloak tighter around him and decided he would walk Fili home. With Ori with them, Thorin shouldn't be too bothered, right?

He walked under cover of his hood until they reached the house. Kili stepped back and let Ori knock on the door. He smiled to himself. Thorin might not like him around very much, but he wasn't backing down.

"Well, good evening," Thorin greeted the threesome, a bit of hesitation in his voice. "Fili, you should have warned me we that we might have guests."

"They aren't staying," Fili concluded. "The Young Master and Ori simply felt a strong desire to see me home safely. I thank you both," he turned and bowed slightly to the pair. "Until tomorrow then?"

Ori nodded in affirmation. Kili tried to be casual but failed poorly under Thorin's scrutiny. In the end he didn't say anything to Fili, nor hugged him or shook his hand, but the look that they shared was enough to get both of them shifting uncomfortably. 

As the door closed, Thorin demanded Fili's attention with a stern look. He didn't say anything, waiting. Kili hadn't looked heartbroken, nor did Fili. That could only mean that today had not been a good-bye. He scraped his throat.

Fili sat down at Thorin's table. "I didn't tell him anything, Uncle. I swear it. The gold is something we both need. I must stay and finish the portrait. The Master would have it no other way."

Thorin took a deep breath and leaned on the table. There were times when he felt like his age was starting to catch up with him, and tonight was one of them. Fili wasn't going to his mother yet. That meant that every day the risk of someone finding out continued to grow. Yet he understood Fili's excuse, for it was not entirely a lie. Kili had provided them with food twice when he hadn't been able to bring any to the table, himself. With Fili working on the commission, Thorin had barely made a profit. "And the thing that's between you and him?" he asked wearily. "Is it wise to continue it? I saw the look on his face."

Nearly did he add, _he is your brother_. But that wasn't fair. Fili had fallen in love with a man that wasn't an option without knowing of it. They had never been given the chance to be brothers in anything but blood alone.

"I have always been terrible at lying, Thorin," Fili's hands twisted together on the table in front of him. "If I cannot tell him he is my brother, I certainly cannot tell him I no longer love him. I just need to proceed with some sort of normalcy until it's time for me to go." He reached up and massaged one temple where a headache was forming. "This ruse is terribly hard for me, Uncle."

His uncle nodded. He got up and whisked him into an awkward but heartfelt hug. Thorin did not hug people easily—Fili could count the number of times on one hand, and they were all when he was younger, young enough for it to be less out of the ordinary—but he closed his eyes and held him close. "I know. Trust me, I understand. I've gotten used to the situation over the past years, but there are times when I see him in the streets and he's smiling and I just want to stop there in my steps and be happy for him. It's worse when he is visibly displeased. Then I wonder if a different course of history would have given him more cause to be happy. Your mother, she couldn't bear to see her youngest son. That's why she stayed in the hills. It's torture. The only thing bringing consolation is the knowledge that at least he won't have to fight for a meal on the table every night."

Fili was moved by Thorin's unexpected display of affection, and clung to him tightly. "I'm sorry, Uncle...sorry I care for him so much. I don't want to bring you shame. I hadn't expected it to happen. I—I wish there were a way he could have both...us, his real family, and still claim the Master’s fortune and his duchy."

"If only he could. Except that would put the Master in a vulnerable position, one where he has no legitimate heir. Others will rise to try and claim his seat. He will do anything to stop that from happening. He still has Frerin—" Thorin shuddered at the following thought. What if the Master were to die, days instead of years from now?

"Thorin?" Fili pulled back and eyed him dubiously, "Well, we'd have to tell Kili then, of course. There are people under the Master, surely, who know where Frerin is being kept. When you go see him, where do you visit? Are you in his quarters?"

"We can't tell him." Thorin's eyes shimmered with a resolution of the strength of a forge fire. "If he knows, all will end. At the worst event, the Master will write him down as an imposter and have his life. He'll be charged with treason. He would lose. Do you want to do that to your mother?"

"So, there's to be no resolution—no happiness—for _any_ of us then?" Fili shook his head. "No! I cannot believe you're content to see Uncle Frerin only once a year," a tear ran from his eye. "What torment that must be. And now you say I should completely forsake my brother as well? Is that the kind of people we are? We run away and bury our heads in the sand while our brothers are held hostage?"

"Do you think I would not have it another way?" Thorin held him closely. "We are powerless. Once, we would not have allowed an atrocity like this to befall us. But where we once had power, we're now a line of beggars, and Kili is again a prince."

"So we have that to take solace in?" Fili trembled, and whether it was in rage or grief he couldn't say. "What happened, Thorin? Why did the line of Durin fall?"

Hands took hold of his shoulders and Thorin looked at him for some time. "That is what we have to take solace in. There's no other way for us, not since the days of fire and stone. You have not heard the tales? How Smaug the Terrible besieged the mountain that was our home, until fire at last expelled us and he took all of our amassed wealth? They were terrible days, Fili, days that nobody likes to relive. I was thirteen when it happened. They say Smaug has become mad with greed. He never comes outside anymore. But even if we wanted to strike back, our might is broken. For political purposes the Master took us in. Look at how easily he discarded we who were once his allies, when the need arose." He shook his head. "We were more powerful than he, once."

"How do you bear it?" Fili could no longer hold back his tears. "How do you bear the helplessness, the pain? For I cannot bear it, Thorin."

Thorin turned and looked into the fire. "Only by years of struggle. It is painful to watch Kili sometimes, knowing where he rightfully belongs. He isn't supposed to be in a madhouse of politics and money. They're vultures, each and every one of them. When he was first taken from us, I thought your mother would die of grief. You didn't understand, not really, for which I was glad. I needed to be strong for her, to make sure she would not harm herself. Half of our family was stripped from us that night, Fili. I could not allow fate to take another one from us."

"For years, I felt you two were hiding things from me...about how Da died...about that strange man who used to play with me when I was little. Mother said he was a neighbor. You both told me the baby—-my brother—had died. And Kili was here all this time. Uncle Frerin was here." Fili paced frenetically. All this talk served no purpose but to rile him against the Master, a path that would surely lead to his destruction, and that of the rest of his family. 

All he could do was focus on running away with Kili and Ori. But first, steps had to be made to make sure nothing would happen to Frerin, Thorin and Dis.

"He was." Thorin gestured him to join him and sit in front of the fire. He found it always soothing to a degree, watching the flames flicker and lick at the clay wall behind it. The forge was built of sturdier material, but there were little funds left to fix up his common house. "They both were. I am sorry, Fili. You must understand why we did it, though that doesn't justify that we had to lie to you. The risk was too great. I didn't want you to work with him at first, but that would have raised suspicion. So I tried to make the best of it, try to keep you away from him. It wasn't fair to him. Kili's a good lad. Slightly spoiled, but good at heart. He loved the Lady Fianna a great deal. Even if Frerin wasn't in their captivity, would telling him truly been a kindness?"

Fili had nothing more to say. What _could_ he say? He couldn't alert Thorin to his plans with Kili and Ori. "If only I'd stayed away with Mother," he sighed, leaning on Thorin's solid shoulder like he had when he was small, "then my heart wouldn't be breaking like it is."

The allure of the dancing flames had drawn Thorin into melancholy. He bowed his head. "I am sorry. If I had given you the truth when my instinct told me to do so, you wouldn't have had the chance to fall for him, and things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand."

"You were trying to protect me, Thorin," Fili reached for his hand, overwhelmed with despair. "I am grateful for that, for you. Your strength is...well, it's incomparable. To stay so strong and so silent. How I admire that."

"It does not come easy." There was no thank you, but it was heavily implied. Thorin sat straighter. The table was empty, no dinner except for a few meager potatoes. Kili's friendship with Fili and his meals had made it all the more tangible when they were again down to their usual portions. "What do you want to do now? Finish the painting and return to your mother? Is there anything I can do to make this easier? Or have you other plans?"

Fili wanted more than anything to include Thorin in his plans. But if he told him the truth—the full truth—he might be tortured. Hell, he might be tortured anyway. The kindest thing he could do for Thorin was lead him to believe he would return to Mother's after the portrait was complete. 

"I'll be returning home," he told Thorin.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a second fruit turnover he'd kept there. "I saved this from the tavern," he smiled, offering it to his uncle. "It's apple."

"You already ate?" Glad enough as Thorin was, he felt like he was slowly losing control over those things that made a difference in Fili's life. He was in love with his brother and he often had meals with him, rich meals where he wanted for nothing. Thorin was losing his ability to take care of him, and because Fili was family that he no longer could provide for, that hit him close to home. He tried to suppress it with the relief that at least Fili got to eat properly somewhere else. "I will send a letter to your mother informing of your return in the morning," he acquiesced. "If you want me to. I beg of you, don't tell her that you know. Kili's loss has left her stronger on a lot of points, but weaker on others. Will you do that for me?"

"Kili fed us—me and Ori," Fili explained. "I ate far too much. I feel a bit sick, actually. At any rate, I promise you that I will not tell mother that I have seen Kili, or that I know of him...until that day when Kili himself is ready to meet her."

He pulled from his belt his coin purse. Kili had given him a little extra to buy the family food. "Please use this at the market for food, Thorin. It's a little extra commission I was given," he smiled, slipping some coins into Thorin's palm. "You look tired. Eat that turnover. I can shop in the morning, if you wish."

Fili was unsuspecting of how his words alarmed Thorin. Thorin contemplated not mentioning it—his nephew had concerns enough as it was, and coins for an actual meal were a rare gift—but Thorin couldn't let it go. "Kili must never meet her, do you hear me? It is too dangerous. It'll risk everything. What do you mean, when he is ready?" He could only be ready to see her if he knew; otherwise, Kili should only be either indifferent or looking forward to it.

Not ready.

Fili's hands shook as he slipped his coin purse back onto his belt. "I think," he rose, "that I should go to sleep, Uncle. Tomorrow, I will return to the manor and continue to work on the Young Master's portrait, until such day that it is complete."

He knew now that he could _never_ share his plans to run away with Kili with his beloved uncle. Thorin would be just another casualty of the lies the House of Durin has been built upon.

"Goodnight," Fili said quietly, slipping into the other room.

Thorin wanted to follow him. He did not, for the sole fact that Fili had been going through enough. Nonetheless he sat in front of the fire for a long time, his hands linked before his face and his fingertips tapping absently. He ought to send Dis that letter. More than enough worrying things were going on. But could he do that to her, and to her son? Fili knew the risks by now.

He did not sleep that night. Late in the evening, he wrote a note and left for the forges. If sleep would not come to him, perhaps he had not worked enough that day.

\- - - - -

Fili arose and took a cursory bath in the well water Thorin had drawn. His uncle had already left for the day. The coin Fili had left on the table was gone, thankfully. He hoped Thorin had taken it to the market and would buy all sort of foods that he preferred—salted pork and eggs being at the top of the list.

Fili wasn't worried about food. He knew he'd be fed at the manor. Already he had become far too accustomed to the bread, grapes and soft cheese that seemed to be in endless supply. It was starting to put a pad of fat around his middle, he noted while bathing. 

Thoughts of good food and Kili got his hand to meandering lower and lower, and he pleasured himself in the empty cottage. When he came with Kili's name on his lips, he felt no shame.

\- - - - - 

Days passed and little changed, except that the canvas of the Young Master's portrait was filling up.

The red and cream of Kili's outfit was being pushed back by the greens of light filtering through foliage and a soft yellow from the sunset. Kili had been adamant to see the progress every day as the session ended and he found that he liked the dreadful colors transformed by the color of the stateroom and the light around him. While his father wasn't going to be pleased, it more than suited Kili.

He tried on several occasions to catch Fili alone. Always there was Ori, who was torn between his friendship with Kili—whom he could give some time with the man he loved—and the strict command of his Master to never leave them alone. The Master wasn't blind, and he saw what was happening to his son. Kili had trouble keeping the smitten look off his face, even when dining with his father and in the company of the dullest of his nobleman friends. At least he could get satisfaction from the nights when Ori joined him and they talked about the trip they were about to make.

"You should be careful," Ori had told him one night. "He speaks of marrying you to a lady of his choice if you don't make one yourself, soon." After which Kili had made sure to press Fili a little into working harder. The sooner they could finally be out there, without anyone looking over them and keeping him apart.

There were still a couple days’ worth of painting to do when he sat down as soon as Fili had entered, had Ori lock the door and offer Fili to take a seat as well. "We should talk about that trip," he said.

"Before we begin, I have a question," Fili turned to Ori. "Does the Master know who I am? Who my family is?"

Ori blinked, not seeing why that mattered. "He knows you're Thorin's apprentice, but I don't think he's had you investigated, why?"

"I was just curious," Fili kept to his promise not to tell Kili the truth about his parentage. "It's just one less thing to worry about, isn't it? Are you going to come with us, Ori?"

He received a nod as confirmation. Kili looked at him with both anticipation and concern. "You're Thorin's nephew though, not his apprentice. I don't know why my father shouldn't know that, and I don't care. But are you prepared to, well..." he bit his lips, "nobody can know about the trip, once we go off the route. Not your uncle either. Are you okay with that?"

"He will not know," Fili told them, "as much as it pains me to have to hide it from him, he will not know. It will be just the three of us conspiring." He could barely hide the tremor in his voice. "Have you decided upon a ruse with which The Master will allow you both to leave the city?"

Kili shrugged. "Easy. Diplomatic visit to several locations. Now that I'm an adult, it's time I start taking an interest in the land I am one day to govern. Except I won't be governing it, of course, but nobody needs to know that yet." He smiled. "I've managed to get the Blue Mountains on the list as one of the first locations. That means Ori can visit his family and you can visit yours without having to sneak around. Technically, we're not supposed to take you along with us, of course. But imagine our surprise when we run into you on your way there? We must not refrain from offering a friend of the family a ride with us when we run into him on foot."

Ori chuckled. "You can see he's been thinking about it a lot. With the Master inviting eligible young ladies over almost every night to meet with him and hopefully strike Kili's fancy, the timing to leave is perfect."

"And are you assured no one else will be traveling with you? Guards, advisors?" Fili twisted his hands together nervously.

"There will be guards," said Ori. "Two of them are friends. We plan to change carriage when we're just out of the Blue Mountains, and we'll go by ourselves from there on, but if you want those two to come with us, they will. The Master will believe we have been abducted, which is why we must be careful from there on. It's the safest way to ensure that if they do catch us, we won't face punishment for it. Nori knows how to smuggle people out, and as soon as we are out of the Master's territory, we will be fine. The best are the southern regions. He holds little to no power there.

"You are brilliant, Ori," Fili squeezed his hand. "I'm so glad you're going with us." He reached for Kili with his other hand. "I'm scared. Is it wrong for me to be scared?"

Kili squeezed his hand. Suddenly he was a small boy, not the man who stood to inherit it all. "I've never done anything on my own like this. I have no idea how to survive. Ori has read about it and I know how to hunt, but still, it's scary for me too. It would have been better if we didn't have to do this. Father leaves me no choice though. It's taking my freedom or forever living as a slave to ridiculous rules." He turned to Ori. "I think Ori's the only one who has already lost it all, once, and knows what he's getting himself into."

Ori quickly shook his head. He pushed himself up. "I wouldn't know how to make money," he mumbled. "My best hope is that they need a scribe, wherever we end up. Fili, does that mean you're a hundred percent behind all of this? No doubts?"

"It's not wrong to be concerned," Fili told Kili, "for the road _can_ be dangerous. I know you know how to defend yourself. And Ori has had the same training, I imagine, as your lackey, in case someone should threaten you. I have never had to hunt, but I am quite good at foraging. The trip south should take a fortnight or so. If we can align ourselves with a thriving colony by the sea, we could learn to fish as well. I'm sure that we all know more than we think we do, going into this," he assured them.

Kili longed to kiss him. It had been too long. Days upon days stacking in which he had not done more than held his hand, they weren't enough. "Don't call him lackey," he said kindly. Ori wasn't a lackey, he was a friend. "And we should probably get to work on that portrait soon. Know that I look forward to the time nobody stands between us anymore. It'll be soon."

"I meant no disrespect," Fili turned to Ori for forgiveness. "I know you are far, far more than that dreadful title they have given you, Ori. You are a better man than either of us. I'm sure Kili agrees."

Fili pulled Kili towards him and kissed him softly on the cheek. "You're right. We must finish the portrait, and soon." He reached for his paint box and opened it. "I hope The Master approves of what we've done."

Kili suddenly kissed him on the lips. He was mindful of Ori and kept it chaste, but regardless of that, Ori coughed and hissed awkwardly, "Kili!"

"I haven't been close to him for too long. Too long, Ori," pleaded Kili. But he soon broke into a grin upon catching sight of Ori's flustered smile. "Dad won't approve, probably. He's good at finding the fault in things. I don't care. He'll learn to like it, because I fathom it'll be all he will have left of me in a few days."

It never occurred to Fili, until that very moment, when he saw the tinge of sadness around Ori's eyes, that Ori might have loved Kili too. For years, in fact. For that reason, Fili stepped away and dropped Kili's hand. "We should work," he affirmed. "We're close to the end. So close, Kili. Your portrait will be talked about for years to come. I can feel it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We apologize that our updates haven't been coming with quite the frequency that we have made you accustomed to. Life has been keeping us incredibly busy lately. 
> 
> Good news, though! We're already three chapters into our latest Aidean AU story. In it, Richard has a secret that will knock your socks off.


	12. Little Cub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The portrait of the Young Master is finally completed. Fili is reunited with his long-lost uncle, Frerin.

Kili made sure to stand perfectly for Fili that day. He made sure the painter got only a short enough break for him to relax. Ori meanwhile kept going over lists of what to take along on their _trip_. He wasn't sketching that day and occasionally piped up about whether they should take this or that. Even though he crossed off a lot of things, Kili knew the trunks were going to be loaded. Either way, they would have to do without the luxuries of the Manor eventually.

That night, Kili couldn't sleep. Too much anticipation thrummed in his body. He looked up at the canopy of his bed as he lay awake. "Ori?" he wondered. "Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

Ori, who also lay awake staring at the fireplace, got off his couch and padded to Kili's bed, climbing in next to him. "Yes, I do," he said softly. "I think staying in a place where you know you can never find happiness out of a sense of duty is the wrong thing to do. You owe it to yourself to be happy, Kili. And, call me selfish, but I want to be happy too. I feel safe here, but never completely free. Does that make sense?" He reached for Kili's hand and squeezed it. "It's not your fault. I just...well, I'm hoping that someday I too can find love."

Outside shone a nearly full moon, casting its light into the room and leaving a pale blue glow that made the interior of the palace look unearthly. "I feel like I'm betraying my father. It's stupid. He has this world built of rules wrapped around me that he knows I don't fit into. Finding a wife and getting married, producing an heir, or ruling the duchy after his retirement. None of those things are me. Yet I feel like I'm abandoning my family at the same time, choosing my own fate instead of that which they built for me. Mother, what would she say? Would she be upset, or would she be proud of me? She always encouraged me to follow my heart, but I don't think she would have wanted for me to leave Dad."

Kili fluffed his pillow idly and readjusted himself. "Thinking like that makes me feel guilty towards Fili, and to you. You deserve love, Ori, to find someone and achieve happiness. You're obviously not going to get it in this palace, where your worth is determined only by how well you perform your duties. Not to me. Never to me. I'm sorry. I've frequently wanted to offer you the world, but it took this long to finally do something about it."

"Mistress Fianna would want you to find happiness," Ori assured him. "But, unlike your father, she'd probably allow you to love Fili...maybe even encourage you to marry him. You two could adopt an heir. It's been done before," Ori told him.

"Adopting an heir would be a mockery and a great insult to father," Kili chuckled. It was easier to laugh at it, now that he was so close to leaving it all behind. "What kind of life would you want most of all, if it was yours for the taking?"

Ori crafted his response carefully. "I'd want to be happy, first and foremost. And safe. I wouldn't care if I had to work hard, as long as there was someone—maybe even a family—that I loved, to come home to. I'd like a big garden with vegetables and flowers. A couple of cows and a brood of chickens," he chuckled. "I'd like time every day to do some drawing as well. Perhaps I'd even write a book." He rolled to face Kili. "What about you?"

Kili was lost picturing it. The image his friend just described rolled out into existence in his imagination, with a big house and a bigger garden, somewhere where the sun shone almost every day but rain was equally welcome when it came. He pictured someone strong to take care of Ori with love. Kili's heart warmed.

"A place to call home," said he. "There probably won't be any children of my own, though I hope that every now and then there will be children's laughter anyway. Going out during the day, owning the world," he had no idea what that meant, except that it sounded right, "and coming back to a loving home in the evening. Fili. Is it strange that for someone I haven't known that long, I can't imagine my life without him anymore? It's like there was always a gap where he fits in, and meeting him made me aware of it."

"I think that's just a sign that the two of you were destined for one another," Ori smiled from where he was leaning, cheek propped on one hand. "Fili is very handsome, Kili. And he's got a spark in him, doesn't he? Like he could kindle a fire in your heart, even a heart that had forgotten how to love." He sighed dreamily.

Kili leaned in with interest. "Are you only talking about Fili now? You look like you have your eyes on someone as well."

"Heavens, no," Ori bit his lip nervously. "I haven't met anyone. Not yet. My whole life has been about making _you_ happy, Kili. And I don't regret it. I like to think I've done well by you. But I'd like the chance to please someone else."

Ori rolled onto his back. "I should go back to my divan and get some sleep."

"Sleep here." In the dark, Kili's brown eyes glistened. "Talk awhile. You've always done well by me. It's scary how you're free to do as you please in a few days now, with nothing binding you to me. I know it's ridiculous, but it terrifies me, the moment that everything will change." He was used to control; in a few days' time, he was going to give it all up. And it would be worth it, yet that didn't mean that he would need adjusting.

"Kili," Ori whispered, the name sounding much more passionate than Kili had ever heard Ori speak before, "no matter what happens, no matter where we end up—I will _always_ be bound to you. You will always have me. I love you, Kili."

Kili reached to gently tap Ori's nose in the dark. He did not know whether the way Ori said it meant something more than he had previously thought or whether it was the tension of their plans, so close now. "I'm glad. You're the kindest person I've known and will come to know in my life, and I don't know what I would have done without you. I love you, Ori. We're going to make it."

"We are," Ori rolled over to face him again, and in an uncharacteristic display of affection, threw an arm around Kili's waist and pulled him close, laying his head on Kili's shoulder. "And yet," he whispered, breath tickling across Kili's chest, "I'm still scared."

Kili closed his eyes and pulled him close. He could almost feel like he had a brother. This was what it had to be like. "I know. Imagine how much I owe you though. Nobody or nothing is going to hurt you without having to go through me first. That's a promise. I can't lose you."

"Stop it, Kili, or you'll make me cry," Ori insisted only half-heartedly. In truth, he could barely contain the swell of happiness he felt lying there in Kili's arms. Maybe—just maybe—he mused to himself, if he had been brave enough to do this years ago, he himself might have become the man Kili was willing to run away from this Manor for.

Kili twirled his fingers lazily through Ori's hair. "Sorry." He kissed Ori on the forehead before lying back and staring back at the ceiling. "I have faith," he smiled. 

Yes, everything was going to be just fine.

\- - - - - 

There was nothing grand about the finishing of the painting. No crowd had gathered to witness the last stroke—though they might have, had they known it was a portrait destined to become the first and last of the soon-to-be-lost heir. Only Ori and Kili were present when the brush was put down.

"Is it...?" Kili asked when Fili didn't move.

"Done?" Ori perked up.

Fili crossed his arms across his chest and studied the portrait for a few silent seconds before answering them.

"As done as it will ever be, I think. Anything else would be embellishment, and The Master has asked me specifically to avoid that. Come," he gestured to Kili, "and tell me what you think of your likeness."

Kili stumbled forward, ignoring the lack of decorum and crumpling expensive fabric. His lips parted in amazement when he beheld the portrait of his likeness. There were no words to describe the beauty of it. Soft green light filtered through and dictated the main color palette, where the sunset did not. Kili's features were darkened by the backlight, like he needed no light to shine. This was how Fili saw him. It was intimate and yet stately, playful and fit to hang in a gallery at the same time.

He reached for Fili's paint-dotted hand. A love that threatened to spill over coursed its way to and from his heart. "It's...magnificent. I knew it would be good, but I never expected..." It was so lifelike. Kili almost felt like he was looking in a mirror and that, if he moved, so would the figure in the painting.

"You have the face of an angel, Kili," Fili said softly, squeezing his hand. "Looking at you—capturing you—has been no hardship. I should have paid you for the privilege."

Ori pulled up on Fili's other side. "He's perfect," he agreed, softly. "The Master will approve. Everyone will." He bumped Fili affectionately with his shoulder.

Fili's eyes locked with those of Kili's in the portrait. "Perfect," he echoed softly.

Kili grinned broadly, flustered and flattered by the only two people who mattered. "It's a pity there is no time for another one," whispered he. One of Ori, commissioned in secret and the best present he could think of, or a self-portrait of Fili, cast in the same glow in the same room. "How did you do this? It's so alive. I wouldn't be surprised if father were to commission a piece by you after he sees this. He'll be green with envy."

"Good," Fili said darkly, only a hint of an impish grin raising the corner of his mouth. "Let him seethe with jealousy. And don't you worry, Kili. There will be plenty more portraits to come, once we've found our new home. And not just created by me, I imagine," he smiled at Ori. 

"After I get better," Ori quickly said, but he liked the idea. "It'll take a while before it's fully dried, right? I've heard of oils that take a year to properly dry."

Fili nodded. "It'll have to be kept somewhere warm and dry while the paint bonds to the canvas—at least two weeks. It can be framed after that, but no one should touch it for a while. But we'll have the real thing with us," he squeezed Kili's hand. "When would you like to show it to your father?'

"Just before the trip." Kili leaned his head on Fili's shoulder. "Not two weeks. We should give someone the assignment to frame it when it's ready, but I plan to be long gone with you and Ori by the time it is cured." He kept staring at the painting. Part of Kili didn't want to leave it behind. It had to be Fili's masterpiece, his best work yet, and it had been for him.

"We plan to leave a few days from now," Ori closed his sketchbook. "The Master will want to invite you for dinner before formally finishing the agreement with your payment. You will spend a day with your uncle. The next day, you leave for your mother. We should run into you if you take the East Road, but if we don't, we will stay at the tavern before the bridge waypoint and meet you there. Then we'll continue together."

Fili's smile was tentative. So much could still go wrong. As much as he had come to love Kili and wanted to be with him, was he a fool to drag Kili away from his privileged life? 

"I want you both to be sure this is what you want," Fili reminded them. "I have nothing to lose, but everything to gain. The two of you, on the other hand, stand to lose everything. It's obvious you've given this a lot of thought, Ori, and your planning has been top notch. Kili, I want you to be sure of this. I love you, and that means I want only your happiness. If it would truly make you happy to stay here and someday be Master, then that is truly what I want for you." 

He closed his paint box with a final snick of the latch.

Kili's arms looped around his waist. He shared a glance with Ori, and Ori briefly hugged him from the other side. "What I stand to gain is the freedom to love, and Ori the freedom to live his life the way he sees fit. We are both well aware that we might not have as much financial resources to make do if we choose this path. You may remind me of it when I complain of it, because I'm sure there will be times it'll take some getting used to, but what we stand to gain is worth everything, Fee. Don't worry, I have thought long and hard about this. I love you. It's as simple as that. And that you're willing to do this for us..." He sighed. "Thank you."

"I have always wanted to go south, and see those beautiful seaside villages Mother speaks about," Fili told them. "She has a way of making it sound like a magical place where nothing can go wrong and nothing can harm us. While I'm not naive enough to believe things will be perfect, it's still where I want to go," he smiled.

"There is one more thing I'd like to take care of before I go." Fili bit at his lower lip. "I believe it's something that you, Ori, or one of your guard friends could help me with. Do you think I could speak with you privately?" He leaned over and kissed Kili on the cheek, making him think he was planning some sort of surprise for him.

And Kili was feeling in love and generous enough to take the hint. He kissed Fili on the temple. "May I go and announce to father that it is ready and he may bear witness to it in the morning?" 

With their approval, he moved to the pile of regularly fitting clothes in the corner, slipped behind the screen and got changed. Kili smiled. "I'll be back in a bit, but take your time. If you head to the guards, just leave me a note."

Then he was off, in good spirits. Ori watched him leave with a smile. "So…" asked he.

"Ori," Fili's eyes flicked to the doorway where Kili had departed, as if he were concerned Kili was listening, "how would one go about trying to have someone released from captivity here in the Manor? Say, someone who had been kept against his will for twenty years or so, yet never committed a crime other than displeasing the Master? Would it be hard for your friends among the guards to help with something like that?"

Ori, having assumed that Fili was going to ask him the name of the gem cutter, didn't know how to respond. Fili certainly had never shown an interest in political matters before. Why now, so close before their departure? "Eh," he stammered, "this is...well, unexpected, and poorly timed. If you want someone released, you should petition the Master. That's how it's usually done. Though I must warn you, he might ask for recompense."

"What could I possibly offer of value?" Fili looked down sadly. He took in a long, deep breath. "Ori, my uncle—brother to my mother and Thorin—has been a prisoner here in the manor for years. It is him I'm trying to assure freedom for. I could not, in good conscience, go away to my own freedom while he is still a hostage. Especially if we are found out. His life...well, it would be forfeit."

"You have another uncle?" Ori had to sit down for that. He stared at the floor ahead of himself. "I don't want to point the Master's eyes at us right now. He'll see what we are doing under his very nose. Tell me, what did your uncle do to get caught and imprisoned?"

"Oh, Ori..." Fili's voice trailed off and he looked away guiltily. "You must believe me when I tell you that he did nothing at all. My family, the Durins...I recently discovered that we were once very powerful, but we fell from grace. The Master does not take kindly to us. He holds my Uncle Frerin as a threat to my mother and Thorin, to keep them in line. Perhaps to keep them from ever trying to rebel. I haven't seen Frerin since I was a child," he confessed. "Since I was five years old."

Fili could see the gears shifting into place in Ori's head. "Frerin. I know a Frerin. He is no captive, but he is—he is a gem cutter." Ori gasped. "And he looks quite like your Uncle Thorin. So that's who you were looking for! Your uncle." He frowned deeply. "Durin...that name rings a bell, it does. I do recall it, yes, but I never thought it was so important until now. That's you? But you were always like me. How...?"

"In my lifetime, I knew nothing of what it meant to be a Durin," Fili told him. "I was raised a commoner, just like you. You remember," Fili smiled gently. "I should like very much to meet Frerin, Ori. You cannot imagine how badly I'd like to see him."

"Yes, of course. I could take you right now, if I was sure that it was the right thing to do. I do think it's the right thing to do. It's just," Ori chewed on his lip, "if he's a prisoner as you say, then he must be guarded. And if I take you there and it becomes known, we could jeopardize everything. Besides, I'm not sure we could get him out."

Fili was desperate to tell Ori everything, but, with all the years he had served the Master and his family, Fili wasn't sure that was wise. 

"My mother has lost so much," he told Ori. "Her husband, her youngest son, and her brother. I feel that for me to run away—for her to lose me too—might break her. If I could do this one kindness for her and Thorin," he paced, "...If I could return the brother they had lost, they too could have peace. Perhaps they too could leave and find solace elsewhere, together. Like us."

Fili paused, eyes sweeping over the portrait he'd created. "You would know best, Ori. You know this manor like you know yourself. I will trust your guidance on this—for all our sakes."

A long silence followed. Ori stood conflicted. He understood though. In the face of losing family, returning one that seemed lost would make the loss less painful. Fili still meant to continue on the trip then, and it wasn't a ploy to get his uncle out. "Come," he said. "I'll take you to him. If you promise me you won't do anything foolish when we arrive in his presence.”

He waited for Fili to be ready and took him through corridors and hallways, down stairs and outside. Past the palace gardens and in front of the lake stood a small wooden settlement of craftsmen in the service of the Master. Ori passed a guarded gate before they entered the secluded quarter, but other than that, it didn't look like a prison. The people there worked and talked as if they were in the heart of the city themselves. They slipped into an alley and walked under laundry being hung out at the top levels to dry, up a slight slope. At the end, he stood outside a workshop and gestured for Fili to look in.

Fili gazed in the open doorway into a room well-lit with golden lantern light. At a table, on a stool, sat a man, his long dark hair tied back away from his face with a simple piece of leather—much how Fili tied back his own. A small smile played at the man's face as he worked on the piece of jewelry, held in front of him on a wooden and metal tripod.

He so strongly resembled both Kili and Thorin simultaneously that it nearly stopped Fili's heart. A noise—a gasp or a sob—threatened to tear from his throat, so he clasped his hand over his mouth and turned away, collapsing against the wall outside.

Didn't Ori see the resemblance between Frerin and the Young Master? Did no one? 

"Ori," he whispered. "That's him. My Uncle Frerin."

But Ori said quietly, "I see it. From the moment you said he was your uncle, I saw it. He is content to be here. I don't know what happened, Fili, and I don't presume anything, but if he started as a prisoner, he must have found solace in that fate." He stepped away from the window. "What will you do now? I don't think anyone is watching him or us at the moment. If you wanted..."

_Little Cub_ , that was what Frerin used to call him when they played together, so many years ago. It came to Fili again when he saw Frerin's face. 

"Why is fate so cruel, Ori?" Fili wondered, hand shaking. "Can I speak to him? _Should_ I?"

"That is your choice. Just be mindful of Kili. If you upset things and you can't come along, you would break his heart as well as your own."

"I want to," Fili said resolutely. "I feel as if I must. I..." he put a hand on Ori's shoulder, "I'd like to speak with him alone. Would that be upsetting to you?"

Ori shook his head—but it did upset him ever so slightly. Ori noticed how Fili chose not to address his concerns over this curiosity for a prisoner coming back to hurt Kili. He could have told he would never let that happen, or that it was all right and he'd be careful. But Ori couldn't deny him if he needed to do this. "Go in," he said with reluctance. "I'll be here waiting. I'll cough or make a sound if you should pay attention. Just don't do anything stupid, please?" It was a plea, not a meant offense.

"I _need_ to speak to him, Ori," Fili explained, squeezing Ori's hand beseechingly. "It has been twenty years. I'll be quick, and I'll be careful," he promised, eyes shining solemnly.

He turned back to the open half door and knocked softly, then a bit more sharply when Frerin didn't turn to acknowledge the summons.

"Hold on," Frerin called out from where he sat, an ocular before his eye and precision cutting tools chipping away small pieces of the gem secured on the bench before him. His eyes did not raise from the gem once until he was done, at which point he pushed the ocular away and looked up. 

Frerin knew him at once. Fili had grown into a fine young man, but though he had filled out from the child that he remembered, he now resembled his father more than he would ever know, himself. Oh, Frerin knew. He gathered his thoughts, inclined his head, and pretended like he didn't. "Can I help you?"

This close, the resemblance of Frerin to the rest of his family was uncanny. Kili's cheekbones. The dark hair, marked by one long patch of silver that was really quite becoming. Thorin's brow and hands, and the blue, blue eyes of his mother. Fili's mouth suddenly went very dry. 

"I..." he stammered, "m-my name is Fili. My mother is Dis and my uncle is named Thorin. Do you know who I am?"

The lad named all of the names that mattered. He had to be at least guessing at the truth, and so with great reluctance, Frerin surrendered. He sighed and put the tools down. "Aye. I know who you are. What brings you here, far away from your mother and, I assume, without permission from your uncle?"

"I just wanted to see you," Fili offered by way of explanation. "To _know_ you. I have been working for the Master. His son, Kili...I was asked to paint his portrait." Fili wasn't exactly sure what he should reveal to Frerin. "We've become close." Fili took a step closer, then another. "You look very much like him."

Frerin laughed. It was coarse and worn over the ages, much more like a hedge knight than a respectable gem cutter. "I have been told I look a lot like my brother Thorin, yes." The sharp glance he turned on Fili then said enough. People could be listening in, and it was not wise to steer the discussion in that direction. "And you are the very image of your father, you know that? I am truly sorry for what befell him. Since you are here, I assume you must know about that. Best not dwell, cub. Wouldn't want the wrong kinds of people drawing the wrong kinds of conclusions." He looked him over and finally smiled more warmly. "Either way, it is good to see you. Thorin tells me you are doing well. How much longer until the portrait is done?"

"I completed it this afternoon," Fili told him. "I had planned to return to Mother's when it was done. This city, it has made me full of unbearable sadness. I don't know how people can live here. I miss the fresh air. When I found out you were here—and I have _only_ just learned this or I would have tried to find you sooner—well, I had to see you. Are you well?"

"Unbearable sadness? My brother tells me you are a painter and a good one. Aren't you always looking for subjects to draw? This city may not be the Blue Mountains, which I miss dearly, but I am sure it has a lot to offer to a young man such as yourself?" Frerin got up and walked to a more secluded area. He returned not much later with two mugs of ale, pushing one forward for Fili. His nephew. Even if his appearance today was unexpected, Frerin couldn't help but be intrigued in hearing his story. "I am well," he started. "They feed me and make sure I do not sit idle. A craftsman such as myself can't want for much more, when his freedom is limited without the expectation of change. When I am sick, they treat me, and they commission me for proper things. Never the Master in person. I will bet you that he doesn't want anyone knowing I exist. It is usually Balin who comes down here. One a year, it is Thorin. I wish _she_ would come too, one day, but I understand." He put the mug to his lips and took a drink, his eyes still on Fili. He did look well. It made Frerin proud to see him.

Fili took a sip of the ale, then a larger one before he confessed, "I had forgotten about you, Frerin. I was so _young,_ when it all happened. You and Father left and never came back. It was almost as if you had never existed. I can barely remember Father. He," Fili paused to steady the tremor in his voice, "he smoked a pipe and always smelled of hay. He used to carry me about on his shoulders."

Fili swallowed back tears and whispered, "Thorin filled in the blanks in my memory, Frerin. I know now who you are. What we have lost. I nearly understand why." He admitted. "So you can see why a great sadness has befallen me here in the city. I have learned that my life has been built on lies and things hidden away."

Frerin nodded solemnly. "They are exposed to you now, but I understand, it should not have been kept from you. Though I fathom you understand now why that is? You need not say it out loud. A nod or a shake will do."

Fili nodded. "That is why I must go. But," he added, "I am not going alone."

"I do hope you mean Thorin," Frerin warned him.

Fili shook his head. He reached for a quill and parchment nearby and scribbled:

_Burn this after you read it. Kili and I are leaving the city and going south, with a few others loyal to the Durins. I tell you this so you can either join us, or make alternative plans to get away. There may be fallout and I don't want you to be caught in it. I have not yet spoken to Thorin about leaving. Kili does not know who he truly is. We are in love._

He pushed what he had written toward Frerin and watched as it was read.

Word after word, worry etched into the lines of Frerin's face. At the final declaration, he whipped his head up. Accusing, disbelieving eyes stared at him. "You..." he started. Frerin closed his mouth, before he took the note and tossed it in the fire. "But _you_ know," he hissed. Because that made all the difference. Fili knew Kili was his brother, yet he declared they were in love and were planning to leave this place. As lovers, not as brothers. "And you don't plan on telling him either, or you would not tell me something so abominable. Have you not heard of decency?"

"We fell in love before I even knew I had a brother," Fili admitted, shame flushing his face. "What is truly indecent is that I was never told I had one. I cannot un-love him, Frerin. I cannot."

Didn't Frerin realize he wasn't telling Kili in order to protect him?

Frerin stood. "So in return for all the years I have been here, kept in captivity lest the people find out, you come here at last and tell me this. That is my reward? Then tell me lad, for I need to know at least your intentions are good. If I were to leave with you, in whichever way you see fit to facilitate me, would you tell him then?"

"You don't understand!" Fili cried. "I haven't told him because Thorin felt it was a bad idea. I desperately want him to know. But telling him now, well, he might lash out against," he whispered, "the Master. I want to get him to the safety of a seaside town, far away. I don't want the escape hampered by an emotional outburst. We can tell him together, as a family. _All_ of us. As it should be, Frerin," he lay his hand on Frerin's forearm.

"A revolt." Frerin sat awed. "You mean you will take him and me away from here, get him back to his rightful family and make sure we will never be separated from each other again? Then you are your father's son. Though you are aware that telling him will not necessarily make him love you more. Nor will _she_ take kindly to it. Are you absolutely sure you see more than ruin for us all in your plans?"

"I see freedom for us and a life of his own choosing for my brother and others who choose to come with us. I see a mother reunited with the baby she was forced to give away, and with her long-lost brother as well. I have no illusions that everything will be perfect for any of us. Can you get away, unseen, if you have to? More importantly, do you want to?" 

"Would I again be part of a family instead of being sequestered away as a craftsman who is not allowed to make a name for himself?" Frerin hoarsely laughed. "That is no question you should be asking me. I'd give my life to have that vision of the future again. Yes, I can get away. I have never caused trouble, not with Kili in the Master's house to use as a hostage and Thorin as an easy target in the case of disobedience. But it has to happen at the same time. If anyone finds out before one of the others is safe, there will be hell to pay." He looked at Fili for a long time. At least, even though his love for his own brother was a cruel truth to be telling him after all those years, Fili had no illusions that things could fall apart when he told him. If that still made him push forward, in order to restore what had once been theirs, then those were noble thoughts. "What are you planning? Only what I need to know, please. Should they take me."

"We plan to leave a few days from now," Fili parroted back to Frerin what Ori had told him. "It is felt the Master will want to invite me for dinner before formally finishing the agreement with my payment for Kili's portrait. Kili and his entourage plan to run into me on the East Road, but if they don't, they will stay at the tavern before the bridge waypoint and meet me there. Then we'll continue together. I'm sure I could send word to you before then."

"I cannot make it as far as the bridge without help." Frerin looked powerless. Will Thorin be there? When will you catch up with your mother?"

"I don't plan to tell Thorin about this until the last possible moment, lest he try to talk me out of it, or worse. What sort of help do you need," Fili tested the title on his tongue, "Uncle?"

Little could he have known that it nearly brought tears to Frerin's eyes. Much had been destroyed, but Fili calling him Uncle one more time almost made it worth it. "Oh, cub, safe passage to meet you there, and enough time to be long gone before anyone finds out. I could fake illness for a few days and travel under the cover of night, should we need that, but once he finds out, your lives too will be forfeit. It would be easier if we could expose him publicly, have the people on our side. Yet there is no chance at that, is there?"

"I wish I knew," Fili said sadly. "I have not been in the city long enough to know of his reach, or anyone influential who disapproves of him. I seem to be continuously putting my foot in my mouth with my backwards ways. Do you _want_ that, Frerin? To cause an uprising? I thought I'd be content to simply reunite our family and go somewhere safe. Maybe I was thinking too small."

"I want for us to be safe and alive." Frerin grinned then. "I thought I was doing the right thing making sure of that, and then you come along with your ideas. But a prisoner would not bother the Master so much. Control over his only heir...that is the problem. And I doubt the Master will die of a natural cause soon enough for Kili to inherit the throne."

"Kili is ready to leave," Fili assured him. "He _wants_ to go, even thinking that he is the heir. He doesn't desire the life the Master has lain out for him."

The older man inclined his head. "That is not what I meant. Rather, it would take away the danger. Kili could abdicate and live wherever he wanted, without secrecy, and all of us with him. Listen, we shouldn't talk much more. Come up with a plan and have a messenger you trust bring the letter to me. I will burn it upon having read it, and I will do what I can. I trust you to send me word if things go wrong and put me in danger, too." He finished the last of his drink and sat back. "I should get back to my trade, lest people find out. It was good to see you, Fili, but speak of this to no one."

"Frerin," Fili threw his arms around his uncle and embraced him. "I'm so glad you want to come with us. In a few days, you'll have your freedom, and our family will be one again. I'll send word," he promised.

Frerin kissed his forehead. "Well, I'd rather have done this a different way, but if I am here when they find out, I will be dead. You leave me little other choice." He smiled however. Perhaps it was hope that made him do it. Once they would be beyond the Master's reach, all the shards would be together to try and fix what was broken. Frerin thought it would never happen. "Be gone now," he led him out. "This meeting did not happen." Before the line where light from outside shone in, he receded back into the shadows and turned his back. Soon he was back at the table, an ocular on his nose and his trusted tools in his hands.

Body thrumming with nervous excitement, Fili exited Frerin's cottage, looking around warily for Ori. He spotted his friend a few yards away under a spreading oak tree. "It's him," he reached for Ori's hand and squeezed it. "My uncle. Thank you, Ori. Thank you for knowing where to find him."

"Your uncle..." While he wanted to share in Fili's enthusiasm, Ori could not. It was wonderful news. It was the kind of news that solidified one's roots and made it harder to move somewhere else. "What will you do, now that you know? Do you still want me to get him free?"

"That," Fili's voice grew low, "is non-negotiable. Frerin needs to be with his family. And it's something he wants as well. I made sure. He is scared, like we all are, but he's in." Fili drew in a deep breath. "I'm to see The Master in the morning to show him the portrait?"

Ori started back to the palace. "Well, Kili is seeing him right now, so hopefully, if he has the time, it will be tomorrow. It could very well be later than that, though I hope not. Oh, I do hope this is not going to turn into a big mess. Are you adamant that he needs out and with us while we leave?" He talked in hushed voices. "Because it's going to be harder to pretend we were really just going on that trip when an escaped prisoner is with us."

"Surely there is some way to get Frerin out. The security here at the artist's village seems lax. There must be times when it's even more so. It seems that at this very minute, under cover of darkness, we could smuggle him out, if we were careful—especially if he had a guard's uniform to wear. But, Ori," Fili lay a hand on his arm, "if you have any reservations at all, I will find a way to do it on my own. I don't want you to feel as if you are in danger."

"A guard's uniform?" Ori was no fool. If Fili did this by himself, there was only the more chance that they would get caught. He would not jeopardize Kili's safety for anything. Fili plainly needed his help. "I might be able to get him a guard's uniform. If he were to make sure his face wasn't recognizable while we get out, I think we could make it happen."

"I've complicated things," Fili admitted. "I'm sorry, Ori. But he's my family. I owe it to him to at least try to bring him freedom after all this time."

Ori inclined his head. "I know. I hope you would entrust me with the story one day."

Fili stopped in his tracks and bid Ori do the same. "I am doing more than that, Ori," he cupped his friend's face in both hands. "I am entrusting you with my life. Kili's life. The lives of my uncles and mother. _Everything_ in this world that matters to me. Because I do trust you, Ori." 

Exhausted by his admission, Fili sighed, then released Ori. "I'm sorry. I shall not sleep until it is done. Until we are away."

"It might be wiser if you did. When we are away, I have no doubt Kili will want to catch up on lost time." Ori smiled knowingly and walked ahead, his cloak billowing. Beyond him rose the palace. Kili would be waiting there for them. "I will see if I can encompass him in our plans. Do you want me to let Kili know? He doesn't know of Frerin. His father doesn't allow him to visit the craftsmen, says he shouldn't mingle with the working class."

"Let's wait just a bit more to tell him about Frerin," Fili made a split-second decision. "It might confuse him, and I don't want him to change his mind because of a new wrinkle in our plan." He was desperate to tell Ori who Frerin _truly_ was to Kili, but that knowledge would only endanger Ori. "Goodnight, Ori, and thank you again. I shall see you in the morning."

On the steps in front of him, Ori stopped and turned around. "You are leaving?" asked he. "But Kili must be expecting you."

"To stay here in the manor?" Fili wondered. "Is that wise?"

"If only to say goodnight to him in person."

"Each time I say goodnight to him and have to leave...it's torture," Fili admitted. "Yes, I will come and see him, of course." He followed Ori up the stairs.


	13. I'll Wear My Finest Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili has to resist temptation, and show the finished portrait to The Master.

Ori squeezed Fili’s arm. He led him up to Kili's chambers, not the stateroom. Upon pushing the doors open, it was indeed where Kili had gone, for his voice called out over the empty room, "Who is it?" By the sound of the echo, Kili had to be in a private adjoining bath room. "Ori?"

"And me," Fili warned him. 

"This is where I take my leave," Ori nodded, "unless the two of you would like something to eat."

"I have food here!" Kili called out. He leaned back his head to rest on the edge of the porcelain bath and sighed out. His hands pushed foam around on the slippery surface of the water. The portrait was done. There were only a few more days to enjoy this luxury unabashedly before they set sail for what was truly important. "Come over here, Fee," he called out. "You must be exhausted."

"I am," Fili confessed. He squeezed Ori's hand in farewell and the redhead slipped out of his grip and the room. "That, and worried." He went to the spacious bathroom and smiled at the picture Kili made. "Don't you look inviting?"

Kili made an extra effort at those words. He pushed his chest up a little, but didn't open his eyes. There was peace in his appearance. "That is the point. Do you feel invited enough to do something about it? There's plenty of space left in here for you." He peeked one eye open. "Father will see the piece tomorrow morning. I told him it exceeded his own portrait. I wasn't exaggerating."

Desire flooded Fili at the look in Kili's hooded eyes, but shame quickly replaced it when he remembered Frerin's harsh words of accusation. "W-what would you like me to do, Kili?" he asked, taking a few more steps forward.

"Join me. I've got spare towels and new oils to try. You've earned yourself time to wind down and relax, and I don't think you get the chance for that at home, do you?" But Kili wanted, more than that, to just be alone with Fili and share a moment of intimacy. It would be long before they'd have the time again, just as it had been too long already. "Go on, I'll close my eyes."

Fili chuckled nervously. "What's the point, Young Master? You've already seen all of me," he undid his belt and pulled his brown tunic over his head. "It's a bit late for modesty now."

Clothing balled up and thrown aside, Fili climbed into the warm water. "Oh," he sighed, "I will never get used to how wonderful a hot bath feels—and smells." Beneath the water, his hand sought out Kili's.

The desire to tell him the truth was making a churning, hot mess of his stomach.

Kili hummed pleasantly. He watched Fili intently, before chancing leaning forward and catching his lips with his own. His free hand brushed Fili's cheek, leaving a watery trail in its wake. "Ori left, did he not?"

And suddenly Kili rose. He sprayed droplets everywhere in his carelessness, but stopped not until he was straddling Fili, sinking back into the hot water. Bubbles hid the evidence of that which sensation could not—that of two naked bodies touching.

"Yes, he's—Kili!" Fili gasped in pleasure. "What an enthusiastic greeting. I'm happy to see you too," he admitted, hands moving of their own accord to Kili's slippery hips. Kili was already hard. "You smell so good."

Kili laughed and kissed him. "It has been far too long," he shook his head. Just the touch of groin against groin and chest against chest was waking a fire in him, and he pushed his hips down. Kili stole another kiss. "God, I love you, Fee. Why is it that I've not dragged you into a bath with me again since my name day?"

Fili blushed. "Because we're both grown men?" He offered. "And far too big to be bathing together." Still, he clung to Kili, taking comfort from the closeness. "Kili, I love you too." He looked Kili directly in his dark eyes. "Bless the day we met. It was the start of something so very important." Despite the warmth of the water, Fili was shaking. "Hold me tighter," he bade Kili. "Let me feel you."

Kili's eyes sparkled with devoted love. His hands brushed through Fili's hair, undoing his braids one by one, his lips peppering kisses on Fili's clammy skin. He was both soothing him and telling him how much he cared for him with touch. It still amazed Kili how he could be feeling so drawn to a single man. It was almost like a string connected them invisibly, for where Fili went, there too Kili needed to be. He thought that half the reason why he wanted to run away was because otherwise, Fili would leave him sooner or later. Be it his mother or a new commission, but Kili was not as free to go as the one who held his heart. Kili feared what would happen if he allowed that string between them to snap.

His body pressed against his lover's until they were both strung with need, upon which Kili lapped at Fili's neck. "You still haven't claimed me yourself," he whispered.

Fili's heart skipped a beat. _You can't,_ a logical, sensible voice inside his head told him. _He's your brother. You know it, even if he doesn't. If you do this now, he'll never forgive you._

"No, I haven't," Fili admitted. "Are you sure that's what you want, Kili?" 

He would let him decide.

Kili cut his words short with his mouth. When he pulled away, he wondered with playful curiosity, "Why wouldn't I want it? I have been waiting for you to be ready since the moment I found out you hadn't, well, you know. I've been ready from the moment in the observatory. You needed only say it."

Fili lay his forehead against Kili's. "I love you, Kili. More than I ever thought I would, or could, love anyone. And I'm not just saying that because of what we've done. What I feel with you is a powerful connection. Soul deep. I think you feel the same."

With full trust, Kili nodded. He knew he looked fragile despite sitting astride him. "You're all I can think about. It's not a simple infatuation. I've had simple infatuations, and I know the difference. It's as if, were you to go, you would condemn me to live as half a soul." He shivered of cool air on his wet shoulders. "I would understand if you wanted to wait. There is time though, and I can lock the doors. I need you."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Kili realized how true they were. His eyes fluttered shut. Pressing his forehead against Fili's, he took in a deep breath. "Everything is about to change. Can we always stay like this?"

"I will love you and care for you as long as you'll let me," Fili assured him, pulling him in for another kiss. One hand slipped down, down the cleft of Kili's ass and a finger found his opening. "What do you want me to use to slick you?"

"I would always let you."

Instead of allowing Fili easier access, or any of the oils, Kili got up. He stepped out of the bath gingerly, careful not to slip, and reached for the towels. One he held out for Fili. "Not in the water," he said around the flock of butterflies in his stomach and the increased heart rate. "It's more difficult. Dry yourself. I'll be off to lock the door. You'll find me in my bed."

After Kili left the bath, Fili pulled himself from the hot water and perched on the edge of the tub, a towel wrapped around his shoulders as he shivered, heart racing.

_Stop this,_ the voice ordered him. _Stop this now before you do something you cannot forgive yourself for._

"It's not fair," Fili whispered back to the voice. "We could all die—all of us—before he ever got a chance to know the truth."

Wholly unaware, Kili padded naked to the main entrance to his chambers. He slid the latch into place and tugged some of the gauzy curtains shut. The sun had set by now, casting the room into a weaker light, which was why Kili poked at the hearth to fire it up a little. As soon as he lay down on the bed, his mouth went dry. Anticipation had Kili's breaths shallow and his body impossible to keep still. Kili covered himself partially from the slightly cool air by rolling onto his front under a spread of fur. He stretched his toes. "Fee?" he called. "I'm ready."

Fili shut his eyes tightly and toweled dry quickly. He went to the next room, preparing to tell Kili he had to leave. Then he caught a glimpse of the smooth expanse of Kili's back, golden in the firelight. 

_God help me,_ he thought to himself, _but I am every bit the sinner Frerin thinks I am._

He crawled under the covers and his hand immediately slipped to the small of Kili's back.

Kili arched his back up in an automatic response. "Hey," he whispered. He pressed his forehead into deep red sheets and sighed out. The pressure of Fili's weight on top of him, pinning him down, was an unexpected turn on. "Would you...put your lips on me?"

Kili squirmed lower underneath Fili. He had not expected that not looking at each other like this could be intimate, though that was what it was. "There are oils on the cabinet." He smiled. "How do I look, down upon your colors?"

"The natural color of your skin and your eyes," Fili ghosted over his shoulder blade with gentle kisses. "The flames licking your hair...those are the most wonderful colors of all. Clothing be damned," he huffed, giving Kili's ass cheek a playful tap. "Now, where, exactly, do you want me to put my mouth, love?"

"Everywhere!" gasped Kili. He turned around under Fili and caught his mouth with his own immediately. Their naked bodies pressed and rubbed together as he wriggled his legs on both sides of Fili's hips. Kili was out of breath when he was done, looking up at Fili with promise. "I missed this." He licked his lips. "It's not fair. I could just look at you and know that it's what I want, but I have no words like you to express it."

_But I'm not saying the right words,_ Fili scolded himself, even as his hands plunged into Kili's raven tresses and he inhaled deeply his scent. "Kili—I—" he swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I love you so much. But I'm not sure if this is...that we should..."

Kili stilled under him. He looked up, and his breathing calmed slowly. "You're not ready," he stated, and kissed him. Though it was disappointing and his body demanded attention, he knew he could handle waiting a little while longer. "It's okay." Another kiss. His knees sank back to the bed in defeat, but in return he tried to soothe any tension away with caring touches.

"It's not that I'm not ready," Fili assured him, kissing the underside of Kili's jaw. "I am _so_ in love with you, Kili. I just think, maybe, I'd like to save us making love again until we're free and clear of this city—of your father. I'd like us to do it, the next time we do it, in our own bed. A lot can happen between now and then, too," he added, and it came out sounding a bit more ominous than he'd hoped.

Kili shifted, wrecking a faint whimper from him. Fili on top of him felt so delectable. "All the more reason. It could be our last chance."

"Kili," Fili groaned, laying his forehead against Kili's warm shoulder. "I shouldn't even be here in the manor after hours. I don't want to cause problems. Not now. We're so close."

"The doors are shut. And nobody would see it as a problem to find you here." A frown appeared. Kili tried to dispel it by weaving his fingers through Fili's hair, playing with the loose, wet ends. "Not until I am to marry. And I'll never let it come that far if it's not you. We don't have to, Fee, but I _want_ to."

_Tell him the truth!_ The voice commanded. _If you do this without telling him that he is your brother, you are every bit complicit! You will burn!_

_I cannot tell him_ , Fili argued back. _I can't!_ If Kili knew everything that the Master had done, he'd never be able to act normal around him, and their plans for escape would be ruined.

Fili wasn't even sure how he was going to face the Master with an even countenance, with all the knowledge he possessed.

He was in agony.

Tightening his embrace, Fili caressed Kili's face. "Trust me when I tell you that I want this, Kili. I truly do. I just have a lot of reservations."

Although his thoughts remained unvoiced, the internal battle was there to see for anyone paying attention. And Kili was paying attention. He assumed it was stress over everything that was about to happen. "You are lying naked on top of me. It's impossible for me to think of anything else than showing you the extent of my desire for you. You are something, Fili. While I have trouble controlling myself, you tell me to wait, and I'll be damned, but I'll do it for you. Not even if I put my mouth on you though?" he tried without any expectations. Kili closed his eyes. For all his physical need, he looked almost peaceful. "A house all to ourselves. That sounds nice. Just a small one, with a large bedroom, because we'd be outside a lot." His eyes opened. He watched Fili. With him, he'd do anything.

"A garden," Fili relaxed noticeably when Kili agreed they could wait, "flowers, for certain. But also vegetables of all sorts. I love the smell of the earth. There's nothing more delicious than that first bite of a sun-ripened tomato. The juice on your chin...its sweet saltiness," Fili whispered in Kili's ear. "I want to share that with you. I want to plant things and harvest them with you."

Kili nodded, filled with hope for that future. "We could watch the sun set and rise again without anyone telling us it is time to sleep or eat or take up our duties." He brushed hair out of Fili's face. "I would wake next to you every morning, and you next to me. And it will be beautiful." He sighed contentedly. "Kiss me, Fili."

Fili willingly complied, head filled with the picture Kili had painted for him. "Ocean breezes," he smiled sleepily, pulling the covers up around them. "Fresh air, surrounded by friends and family. We could keep chickens and have fresh eggs each morning. I would take care of you, Kili. Like I should have been all along."

The other kissed him on the nose. He closed his eyes in contentment. Life could not get better than this. "It is not your job to take care of me any less than it is mine to take care of you. Hey, don't fall asleep on me now. Spend time with your uncle tonight. You will not see him for a long time, if things work out according to plan, and I am very invested in them going according to plan. Besides," he chuckled sleepily, "any more time being naked on top of me and I might just lose my restraints. Do you even know what you do to me?"

Fili nodded, planting a final kiss to Kili's forehead, and he sat up. "It's so cold at Uncle's," he said softly, drawing on his clothing. "When you and I have a home, it will always be warm. I never want to fall asleep shivering again."

Kili rolled onto his side. He followed Fili's motions lazily, going through no trouble to cover himself up after the sheets started tangling and slipping off him. "The South it is then. Is there anything you want us to think about tomorrow when we prepare for the trip? Anything you want to take along?"

"I fear we'll have to travel light, Kili. The best thing you can bring—if you're able to get it—is currency that's easy to carry, and your weapon of choice. The road is a mixed bag. Even with guards along, you never know who you might run into. I want us to be safe. I'm bringing two changes of clothing and some light daggers. Hopefully I'll also have the Master's payment. I will bring my sketchbook, but I'm afraid the rest of my materials will have to be left behind, for efficiency's sake. This isn't going to be easy...," he turned to face the younger man. "You know that, right?"

Looking down, Kili gave a small nod. He knew. Of course he did; he was about to lose all the riches his life had known, as well as the simple regard of being an heir that had people treat him with respect. He would have to start earning it by himself now, and he had only a slight inkling of how to go about accomplishing that. His father had never taught him to earn a living; if anything, he had rather taught him how to steal and twist words to get things done—and Kili had never been good at those lessons, either.

"We travel light, in that case. As much money as we can carry to buy things on the road." Kili looked up. "But before we have to worry about survival, I get to see your mother. I am looking forward to meeting her. Anyone who raised a boy up to be a man such as you are deserves to be aware of the honor. And Ori will see his family. And I'll be with you. That makes everything worth it." He nudged Fili. "Go. I'll see you in the morning, and the sooner I make it through dinner and sleep, the faster that'll be."

Fili threw his arms around Kili one final time and hugged him fiercely. _I hope having me and your family will make up for everything you're going to have to give up,_ he prayed silently. "I love you," he told him, planting a kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning. You will face the dragon with me, won't you?"

"I'll wear my finest armor."

Kili was loath to see the painter go. His body craved his attention but, more than that, Kili had the feeling that something was missing. Not between them—he could not be more sure about anything—but something nonetheless. Perhaps it was the danger of it all that was only now seeping into his consciousness. That anything could go wrong and when it did, it might be that he would lose Fili forever.

To think of that was to deliver him a crippling blow. Kili wrapped the sheets around him and walked Fili to the door, where he undid the lock. "I love you," he said with a quiet, sobering voice. "You don't have to do anything for my sake. We're both risking our lives, and you more so than I am. But I'm glad that you are. Just...if you have doubts, share them. I would never forgive myself if something we missed in our plans would make me lose you."

"Now that I've met you—now that I _know_ you and want you—I have no other choice," Fili struggled with wanting to kiss him more passionately, but settled upon caressing his face. "This...us. It was meant to be."

He slipped out of the room to meet up with Ori, who escorted him out and into the chilly night air.

\- - - - - 

Again, Fili had a poor night's rest. The pallet on the floor was hard and the room so cold. How did Thorin live like this? Was he punishing himself with this monastic lifestyle? That had to end. It was to this thought that Fili fell asleep.

He awoke with dread in his stomach. Thorin sat nearby on his bed buckling his boots. 

"I will see the Master today," Fili told him. "I'm showing him Kili's portrait."

Thorin's eyes turned to him. "It's finished then?" He readjusted his foot for a clasp at the bottom. His boots had become shoddy things over the years, more leather rags held together than anything, but there was no money for new ones and besides, he had gotten used to them. "Is it a good portrait?" he asked. He didn't want to start the day by reminding his nephew that it meant the time had come to go home. Let him enjoy the pride of a finished masterpiece for a while first.

_The first thing I'll do with the gold from my payment is buy Thorin a new pair of boots,_ Fili decided. _He'll need them if he decides to come with us._ He hoped, once Thorin learned that his brother was going to escape and join the rebels, that Thorin would easily make the decision to come as well.

"It turned out perfectly," Fili told him, pulling his own threadbare boots on over his stockings. "I captured his likeness perfectly. I hope it pleases the Master."

"Undoubtedly he will be envious," Thorin tried to give him courage. Only payment stood between him and leaving the city. "You may use that to your advantage, for when he is envious he might be willing to have a portrait by your hand for himself. You'll do fine. Remember, it's just a formality."

"How do I face him, Thorin? Knowing what I know?" Fili's voice wavered. "I'm terrified. I'm—I'm angry. I want to kill him for what he's done. My father, and Kili," his shoulders sagged. "How do I be strong and stoic, like you?"

Thorin finished his boots. "You think of Kili. It's only for his and my brother's wellbeing. If not for them, the man would have died by my hands a long time ago. But he holds their lives in his hands. That is what you think of when you see him. Let him pay you, extract your reward, then you leave his sight." He got up and patted his breeches. Metal dust and sand fell to the ground. "And whatever you do," he smiled with reserve now, "don't let him wait. Come on, off you go. The faster this is over with."

"Yes, yes, of course," Fili nodded resolutely, but the dark circles beneath his eyes betrayed just how much this entire situation was eating away at him. "The sooner it's done, the better."

He glanced at himself in the small, cracked mirror on the wall. He looked exhausted, but soon he would sleep the sleep of a free man. A free man united with his family...and Kili.

With a final nod to his uncle, he slipped out the door.

Ori awaited him in front of the gate, cloaked in a hood to shield him from the faint rain. "Morning," he smiled and threw a spare cloak around Fili. "I thought I'd wait for you. How are you today?" There was more to his words than anyone would know, but his meaning was clear. How was he feeling about the trip to come?

"I slept poorly," Fili told him, luxuriating in the warmth the cloak provided. "It's been torture not being able to tell Kili or Thorin the truth. I don't know what I'd do without you to commiserate with, Ori," he squeezed his friend's hand. "I'm to see the Master this morning?" he verified. "Show him Kili's portrait?"

"Of course," Ori smiled at him. "Well, technically, you'll be having breakfast with him and Kili first." As if it was nothing, he kept up his smile and walked Fili up the steps to one of the dining quarters, where he knocked twice, opened the door for Fili, and bowed. "You'll do fine. The Young Master is in there to accompany you."

Ori gave Fili a wink. It was just for today.

"Thank you, Ori," Fili smiled and entered the dining room, where Kili and the Master were seated, waiting for him. His stomach gave a nervous lurch. Was he truly expected to eat?

His eyes sought to lock with Kili’s. "Good morning, Lordships," he remembered to bow. "Thank you for inviting me to dine with you."

The Master bowed his head and gestured him with a flamboyant wave of his hands to sit. "All right, boy. All right. I have heard you have been worth our trust in you ten times over, so do sit down and enjoy it." He pointed to a large chair opposite him and Kili, who smiled with encouragement and nodded.

"Twenty times over," Kili supplied. "He has not asked for much during his stays and he has worked harder than any other painter I have heard of."

The Master stroked his excuse of a ginger mustache. "Hm, yes, you have completed it remarkably fast. Tell me, how has my son been?"

"Well," Fili smiled nervously, "it took me awhile to keep the Young Master from fidgeting, but once he did, he took to posing like a duck to water. I hope you feel I've done his image justice."

Kili nodded more vehemently, popping a grape between his lips. He made sure to take his time with one, pressing it against his lips when the Master wasn't watching, and keeping his eyes on Fili, but as soon as his father coughed and reached for a piece of cheese, Kili ate up and had the decency to flush. "You need only see for yourself. You'll love it. It's in a study, and I'm not upside down or anything. It's actually very nice, even if it's in a formal room. But," he added offhandedly, "the next portrait is to be in the garden."

The Master wheezed. "The next?!"

"Yes, well, I am very pleased with this one, and besides, you have several of your own. I am sure Master Fili has enough inspiration to paint me three more, should he have the time."

"Those paintings were done over the course of years!"

Kili shrugged. He grinned at Fili. Careless banter and future plans were the best way of getting the Master to not suspect a thing.

"We should probably let the Master see my first work before making plans," Fili cautioned, reaching for a piece of bread and nibbling on it nervously. "Of course, I'd be willing to paint you as well, Master, if you should find my skills to your liking."

The burning in his stomach intensified.

The Master laughed. "If your skills are to my liking, then I reckon you will. Can't have my son with all the credits, now can we?" He grinned at Kili and shook his head. "Well, all that matters is that he likes his present. He is a grown man now, and I suppose it was time for a portrait to put in the family gallery. One day, when he rules, he will look back just like me and wonder where the time has gone, aye?"

Kili smiled awkwardly at that.

"Time does pass more quickly than any of us would like," Fili agreed, rolling a grape between his fingers. "It's a blessing to have a drawing or painting of a particular person or moment in time—to cherish the memory." He popped it in his mouth and chewed, because the Master was watching him intently and he didn't want to appear rude.

Ori entered the room with a pitcher. "Orange juice," he announced, pouring a helping in an empty goblet at each of their seats. "I remembered how much our painter enjoyed its taste."

"That's very kind of you, Ori, thank you," Fili smiled up at him, reaching for his goblet.

The Master, uncomfortable with this display of kindness to one of his servants and an elevated court painter—who plainly came from the lower levels of society, himself—muttered, "Wine, give me wine!" and sent Ori back to the cellars to retrieve him his favorite brew.

"It's breakfast," Kili hissed at him when Ori had left. "Must you?"

The Master ignored him. He finished his food, dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, and accepted a glass from Ori when he returned. All the while he turned a politically cultured smile on Fili. "So tell me," he asked, "what will you do, now that you finished the portrait? Have others requested a commission of you? I recall you working with that blacksmith."

"I did help him a bit in his stall," Fili answered, copying the Master's gesture and wiping orange juice from his lip with his napkin, "but only in exchange for lodging. My true passion is painting. If no other commissions come my way in the next few days, I will no doubt be heading back home."

"Ah, and where is that?" the Master wondered conversationally.

Kili threw Fili a look of warning. _Don't tell. He must not know._

"Nowhere of consequence, I'm afraid," Fili said quietly. "A small village in one of your provinces." 

He hoped the Master didn't remember him already having told him his home was in the Blue Mountains on the day they'd met. He felt terrified that the Master knew perhaps exactly who he was. Fili's hand trembled when he put his half-eaten piece of bread back on his plate.

Seeing that made the Master smug. It pleased him when men cowered in his presence. Kili next to him rolled his eyes. "Let's just go see the portrait," he insisted. "I'm eager to know what you think of it, so I can start showing it to others."

"Ah, yes, yes." The Master got up. Kili followed, and gestured for Fili to get up. Ori walked out behind them, making sure he kept his eyes trained on the ground at all times.

They paused before the room in which the portrait had been installed to dry; a lonely, largely empty room where several others paintings were kept. Kili had placed it behind a curtain of sorts. He stepped back for Fili. "Show him," he whispered. _Awe him_.

Ori's eyes met Fili's, gently reassuring him.

Fili stepped forward and slipped the cloth away from the portrait. "I hope it pleases you, Lordship," he said, as it was revealed.

The Master gazed upon the painting. Oh, it was magnificent. Slightly unorthodox, what with the green light spilling in and the poor lighting. A lot of people would talk shame of it. But as it was, it only reminded him of his lost wife. "Your mother would have loved this," he said. "It's...well, it's skillful, there's no denying that. A little odd. Yes, she would have loved it."

"The Young Master speaks very highly of his mother," Fili told the Master, "and so I will consider your words as an endorsement. I am sorry she isn't here to see it." Fili's eyes sought out Kili's.

"Not perfect," the Master interjected. "If it's perfect, it would be impossible to surpass." He leaned closer to Fili. "You should stick around for a while. I might be interested in one of your pieces too, should you be able to make the time for it. I believe we shall be seeing great things from you yet. You certainly won't be going back to that market smith."

Fili nodded. Although no doubt meant as a compliment, the Master's words chilled Fili to the bone. His thoughts flew to poor Frerin, kept like a bird in a cage for so long that he seemed content, despite being separated from his family. And to poor Thorin, content to wear boots held together by rags and a prayer.

"I'd be pleased if you'd consider me for another commission, Master," the word tasted acidic and foreign on Fili's tongue. "Please and honored."

The Master nodded in acceptance. He circled the portrait, scrutinizing it from every angle. He was pleased. When Kili had come to him with his mad wishes, he had expected the portrait to be a mockery. Sure, there were elements he did not appreciate, but it was remarkably timid and skillfully made. He hummed and nodded again.

"Very well. Here you go. I'd say you earned it." The Master held up a purse with coins. He handed it over to Fili and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered where Kili could not hear it, "for not listening to my son's wishes too much." Then he passed him, a skip in his step, and left the both of them alone in the painting room.

By that point, Fili's hand was trembling so strongly the coins were rattling in the small bag. "Kili," he whispered, reaching for him.

Kili grinned. "My dad can be overbearing. I know, I've been stuck with him all my life." He waited until the footsteps died away, then pulled Fili close and sneaked his arms around his waist. They fit perfectly. "You did great. It's a beautiful painting, and father hasn't gone into a fit like he does all the time." He closed his eyes. "Is that why you're trembling?"

"I just..." Fili lay his forehead gratefully against Kili's, "I just didn't want to disappoint him. It feels good to be praised, even by someone I'm a little scared of. I'm so happy he likes it," Fili returned the embrace. "I wanted to do right by you."

Behind them, Ori cleared his throat, reminding them they could be discovered.

Kili reluctantly extricated himself from the grasp—though making it very sure Fili knew it wasn't of his choosing. "You did perfectly. I told you it wouldn't be that bad. Besides, I would have been there if he decided to be difficult. Despite everything, he is still my father," he smiled, "which makes me about the only person who can open up his mouth against him." He couldn't help pecking Fili on the lips quickly. "Tomorrow. Go with Ori now. I have things to take care of, and there is not nearly enough time. I'll see you tomorrow."

Fili nodded, and leaned over and whispered in his ear. "I love you, Kili." He pulled away and followed Ori out the door. "Be safe," he added, raising a hand in parting.

Kili slumped down on the ground in the drying room. A stupid smile was locked on his face; if his father saw him now, he would call it a disgrace. Somehow that only made Kili grin wider. He soon reminded himself that there were indeed things to do and headed to his living quarters. Several trunks stood ready to be loaded with an assortment of choices Kili had been making over the past few days.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, everything would change.


	14. The Coup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the big departure arrives... but Kili has some questions he needs answered first.

When Ori returned from having brought Fili to the gate, Kili couldn't help but hug him tightly. "Things are about to change," he whispered in happiness. "It's a little frightening. Stay with me, Ori, no matter what happens."

Ori smiled as he looked at all the items Kili hoped to pack. "I couldn't leave you if I tried, Kili," he told him. "You don't think that perhaps you're over-packing? I'm not sure we can take this much, especially if we find the need to sneak away covertly on foot."

"I'm not even sure what to bring," Kili grinned. "I just...I need to cross some things off. Help me? I have no idea what will be useful. We just need a few expensive pieces so dad doesn't take notice. What did you take? Did you pack?"

"Well," Ori chuckled. "I've mostly packed essential clothing. Three complete outfits total. Some family items, jewelry and such, that I brought with me when I first arrived. My sketchbook and some charcoal. Very little aside from that. Most of what I've had—well, nearly _all_ of everything I've ever owned—has come from this household. Nothing is truly mine, except perhaps my jewelry and sketchbook."

Ori eyed Kili's belongings sadly. "From what Fili tells me, his mother is a clothier. At the very least, I can sew clothing for you once we acquire the cloth. You needn't bring quite so much. You'll need comfortable clothes that lend themselves to travel, perhaps even to manual work, if it comes to that."

Kili looked at him helplessly, then over the mounds of delicately cut tunics and useful but slightly gaudy cloaks, that would have been fine if not for the gold thread and the gem-studded brooches. "Should I bring food?" he wondered. "Maybe something to pass the time, like you do with sketching? My bow? I never thought I needed so much until I have to strike out everything but the essentials. Does that make me a vain person?"

"You should definitely bring the bow, as we might need protection—or to hunt. You are an incredible archer. That can't be underestimated," Ori blushed. "But these clothes...well, they are the kind of clothes that scream 'Come rob me! I'm rich!'" He chuckled. "My initial reaction is to tell you to rip off all the gems and gold buttons and stuff them in a bag, along with any other small, valuable items you can find. I'd bring a meal or two, but the rest we can purchase or find along the road."

The brooches and buttons dazzled Ori’s eyes. Were they to rip them off bring them along, they’d be able to travel comfortably for some time.

He watched at Kili's face ran through a gamut of emotions. "I'm scaring you, Kili." He lay his hand on Kili's forearm. "I'm sorry. It's neither entirely safe nor necessarily fun, out there."

"But father will be terrible about it if he sees me leave without any wealth on me. It's prestige, remember?" Kili squeezed Ori's hand. "Hair brushes?"

" _One_ hairbrush," Ori corrected. "If only so you'll share it with Fili. His hair," Ori threw up his hands, "I would like to attempt to tame it at some point. Look," he reasoned, "you are packing a trunk. What you put into it...well, that's entirely up to you. Perhaps put one or two of your finery on top in case the Master or Alfrid decide to go snooping. You see what I mean? Be practical, Kili. Think about things you use every day. Then, consider whether or not you truly _need_ those things. That's practical. You know," Ori sat down on the divan, "it's a shame we can't spend time with Fili again tonight. I don't think he's faring well. He's not sleeping, Kili."

Kili let go of the garments he had been holding up for inspection. "He's not?" It was to be expected, of course, that the tension that had been coiling in his belly for the last few days had been having a similar effect on Fili. But to hear that the tension had manifested in Fili not being able to sleep made him want to see him and kiss it all away. Just another day; that was what he had been telling himself all day now. He looked at Ori. "Is it wise if we visited him tonight? It's not, is it? Father will notice and think it odd, and Fili's uncle will be skeptical of our presence. It'll all be fine in the morning, once we've left." He sat down with a sigh. "Why is today so hard, Ori?"

"Fear," Ori bit at his lip nervously. "Fear of the unknown is powerful, terrible. Prohibitive, even. I remember the days leading up to being brought here to serve you. I imagined all sorts of possible scenarios. None of them happened, of course. Turns out, you weren't the monster I was fearing after all," he smiled softly.

Ori didn't mention the castration—a horror he couldn't have predicted in his wildest imaginings. But time had healed even that wound.

"I sent Fili home with some herbs from Dr. Oin. Valerian root," Ori assured him. "It should help him be rested for tomorrow."

"Will you visit him later to make sure he knows when we leave?" Kili wrapped his arms around himself and looked out the window. It was a dismal day, with rain pouring down. It did nothing to motivate him. Kili had, when imagining the departure, always pictured the weather sunny and pleasant.

He pulled himself together. "Either way we have things to pack, things to organize. Tomorrow I'll be his, but today I need to make sure I'm ready for everything else." He nodded to underline his statement. "Is there anything I can help you with when we're done here?"

"I've basically been packed since we made our plans. I travel lightly," Ori smiled softly. "There is _one_ thing I'm a little worried about," he confessed, because his loyalty to Kili overrode everything else. "I'm not even sure it's something that should concern either of us, but...well, yesterday I took Fili, by his request, to see one of the artisans in the settlement by the lake. He seemed very upset when he left. I think the man is his uncle. Those people in the settlement...are they criminals?"

Kili furrowed his brows. Why would Ori think they were criminals? They were simply artisans in the service of his father, working in a settlement to keep the craftsmen together.

Weren't they?

"Can you take me to him?"

Ori instantly regretted his decision to tell Kili about Fili's visit to Frerin. "I...well, yes. It's daytime. I suppose it's safe enough for us to visit there. But you _cannot_ tell Fili about this, promise?"

"Why not?" All this was strange—and on the last day before departure, Kili could not deal with strange.

"It just seemed that he wanted it kept private," Ori informed him, "but it has me worried. I shouldn't have brought it up, I suppose." Ori waved the notion away with his hand. "Do you still want to go?"

"I think so." Kili looked over the chaos that was his room, littered with open trunks, and decided that putting off finishing it was exactly what he needed. He pushed up and headed for the door. "The artisan quarters?" he asked. "Walk with me?"

Ori nodded. "Yes, of course, Kili. Let's go."

Wearing cloaks to protect them from the rain, the pair made their way to the small settlement on the edge of the city. When Kili lowered his hood, the guards nodded and allowed them to pass.

"Here we go," Ori squeezed his arm as they arrived at Frerin's cottage. "His name is Frerin, and he's a gem cutter. Would you like me to come in with you?"

Kili linked his friend's arm in his. Truth be told, he had no idea what to expect, nor did he know on what grounds exactly he wanted to see him. But if this was Fili's uncle and he had seen him so shortly before leaving, then there had to be a reason for that. He stepped into the cottage, knocked and cleared his throat. Even with the cool rain outside, the cottage was hot like a forge. "Hello?" he called out. "Anyone in there?"

A dark-haired man of middle age wearing a billowy ruck cloth shirt and breeches came walking from another room, carrying a plate bearing a hunk of beef and a piece of bread. "I wasn't expecting company," he muttered, setting the plate down on a wooden block table and approaching the half-door, the top of which he habitually left open. Not that it mattered, as his visitor had decided to simply walk in uninvited.

Thankfully Frerin recognized his guests before deciding to scold them. When he saw Kili, he straightened his posture at once. "Young Master!" he exclaimed. "This is quite a surprise. What brings you to my humble cottage?"

His first thought was, _Fili told him._

Kili looked him over. He looked a lot like Thorin. His second thought was that they both looked nothing like Fili. The heritage would pass unseen until someone called him on it. He coughed. "One of my...acquaintances," he picked his words carefully, "showed interest in this place recently. Fili? I am not sure whether he mentioned his name to you." Kili looked at Ori. He had no idea how to properly ask what that business had been. "Said you were his uncle?" he decided on. "So I was wondering, why haven't I seen you before? I have seen his other uncle a few times."

Frerin had seen Kili several times, but always from a distance. This close, it was impossible to deny the strong resemblance between them. He tried hard not to think about the last time he'd held Kili—a squalling red-faced thing with a fluff of dark hair—while he watched the Master's guards beat his brother-in-law to death. Then, they tore the baby from his arms and marched him off to the dungeon, where he had spent nearly six months—and nearly perished of pneumonia—before the Master deemed him safe to move to the colony.

"Fili..." Frerin smiled nervously, "he's the spitting image of his father—husband of my sister. He has the blue eyes that run in our family though. I _am_ his uncle. My name's Frerin," he held out his hand for Kili to shake. "Welcome to my home. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"What happened to his father?" Kili asked when his curiosity got the better of him. While he got momentarily distracted by the thought of Fili's blue eyes, he was quick to shake it off and find strength in thinking of him. "It's just...I wasn't aware he had another uncle aside from his uncle Thorin until this morning, and to find out he lived in my father's patronage, I was wondering why he never made mention of you."

Walking forward, he placed a hand on a chair as if asking permission to take a seat.

"Fili's father....well, he passed, when Fili was a wee lad of five. Beaten and robbed," Frerin explained. And Nali _had_ been robbed. Robbed of his second son. Robbed of a chance to grow old.

Frerin extended his hand to Ori. "You look quite familiar, don't you? Have you got family in the Blue Mountains?"

"I do, sir," Ori told him. "Two brothers, Dori and Nori."

"Aye, I remember your family. Your father, Rori...he had an incredible garden."

"Yes," Ori nodded, "yes, he did. It's kind of you to remember him. I have been living here in the city for nearly twelve years now. I haven't been home since. As a child, I used to play with your nephew."

"He was a fireball, that one," Frerin smiled fondly. "Listen, I have a pot of tea going. Could I offer you two some? It's nothing fancy," he gestured for both of them to sit.

Taking a seat, Kili nodded and allowed himself to look around the house. It was small and poor, though in better condition than Fili's home. It wasn't a bad place to stay for someone of Frerin's status. Kili leaned closer to Ori and whispered to him, "Can I see the garden when we go there? I didn't know about that." He didn't know about a lot of things. His hands fumbled.

When Frerin joined them with two chipped but solid cups of tea, Kili declared, "We'll be going on a trip tomorrow. One of our first stops will be in the Blue Mountains. I might get to see Fili's mum. Is that why he came to visit you earlier?"

Caught off guard, Frerin's hand trembled as he handed Kili his tea, "Er...yes," he stammered. "He was hoping I would come along with him on his voyage. But, I..."

"They won't let you leave here," Ori concluded. "Why not?"

"I am in service to the Master," Frerin told them; it sounded rather rehearsed.

"So is Ori, through me," Kili countered. "He is coming along. Would it not be nice to see her again? Something tells me you do not get out a lot."

"I am forbidden to leave the colony," Frerin told him, "unless accompanied by the Master's guards. I want desperately to see my family and return home."

"So you have committed a crime then?" Ori wondered.

"No!" Frerin insisted adamantly, pounding his fist on the table. "I..." he looked at his young guests horrified by his behavior. "I am kept here because of... _animosity_ the master holds towards my family."

Kili let out a scoff. Blood ran thicker than water, and he couldn't let that remark slip. "Animosity? Against your family? That is preposterous. Why would my father hold any animosity towards you unless you committed a crime?"

"Young Master," Frerin sat down next to the dark haired youth and leaned in intently, " _Kili,_ on your life, I cannot speak of this. I'm sorry."

Kili grew cold. "Address me with my title, and tell me what it is that you cannot tell me on _my_ life." He squeezed Ori's hand. Something was going on and, Fili's uncle or not, Frerin was insubordinate.

"If you love Fili, and you love the freedoms that you enjoy," Frerin implored, "do not ask this of me, Young Master. The knowledge I possess is the sort that could bring ruin to this duchy."

"We are leaving it tomorrow. Fili clearly must have tried to take you along. It was not his decision to make." Suddenly Kili disliked this man with a passion for the secrets he held. "Our safety will be secured, and I care little about this duchy. But if you have any interest of coming along and leaving, then I demand the answer of you at the first opportunity we get outside those gates. I will not trust you if you deny me it. Uncle or no, I would send you back."

Frerin leaned forward, both elbows on the table, groaning and raked both hands through his hair in a gesture of frustration.

Ori let out a gasp. He'd seen Kili do the exact same thing a thousand times, and in the exact same way. All the similarities between Kili and Frerin were adding up to be much more than coincidence.

"Who _are_ you, really?" Ori asked him. "For surely you must be a relative of the Young Master. You are cut from the same cloth. Are you a distant cousin who offended the Master in some way?"

"I swear to you, Ori, and to you, Young Master," Frerin was careful not to use Kili's name again, "you will know the truth. I am not a criminal. I would not harm you, or Fili. I wish nothing but your good health and long life. And I will travel with you to ensure it."

The calm that settled over Kili at Frerin's convincing words evaporated when in the silence after the frustration aimed at Frerin, he considered Ori's question. Kili turned to his friend incredulously. "Are you suggesting Fili and I are somehow related? Because that is what I hear when you ask if the uncle of the man I love if he's a relative of me, too." He saw none of the similarities that Ori apparently saw. This man before him was, as far as he was concerned, an insurgent who was most likely convinced that whatever crime he had committed, it had been for the good of others. Asking Frerin whether what Ori suggested was true was preposterous; it was preposterous enough that Ori had been able to draw that conclusion in the first place.

"N-no," Ori gathered his thoughts. "I don't know what I'm saying, Kili. He just...well, he does very strongly resemble you. Can you not see it?" Ori gestured at the older man.

Frerin winced under their scrutiny.

Kili shrugged though. "Not really, no." Maybe Ori was right and they did share some resemblances, but he refused to be compared to this man. His mood thoroughly spoiled, having needed very little to tip him over the edge of fraying nerves that had been eating away at him for days, he turned to Frerin. "I take it you've made plans to get you out of here? As soon as we pass the bridge, you and I will have a word in private, and you will tell me why my father kept you here. If I don't like the answer, then you will be sent back here with a guard to make sure you don't run off again."

Kili stood and walked away. Suddenly weary, he longed to ask Fili about this stranger and about why he had asked him along. But Fili had to have had a good reason. And perhaps he did; he was his uncle after all. Either way, Fili was tired enough as it was, and Kili wasn't going to make it worse. As they walked out, he sighed and muttered, defeated, "It wouldn't be fair of me to ask you to pack for me, would it be? I need a rest."

Frerin sank into the stool at his desk. Fili hadn't betrayed him — hadn't shared the secret. And the Young Master seemed...well, to be honest, he seemed reviled by the idea that a poor gem cutter could be a member of his family. How would he ever handle the truth? _Could_ he? For the first time in years, Frerin felt ashamed.

"Thorin," he whispered, unfocused eyes fixed on the fireplace. "Help me."

\- - - - -

As soon as Kili returned to his rooms, he bade Ori to tell the guards not to let anyone in, and fell onto his bed. He was tired, so very tired. Never had he really organized something before—or been so closely involved, anyway—and it was stressful. He closed his eyes, muttered to Ori to wake him in an hour, lest he overslept and didn't have enough time left to pack, and allowed his head to be cleared of the many thoughts and worries.

Ori, for the first time in his life, disobeyed Kili’s order and let the Young Master sleep for as long as he needed. It gave him time to properly pack Kili’s belongings for their journey. He went through all of Kili’s wardrobe and removed each gold and silver button, each gem, and bagged them. The wealth was considerable. He hid the treasure in the bottom corner of one of the trunks, satisfied that the stash would keep them from going hungry for a long, long time.

\- - - - - 

Thorin came home from the forge to be greeted by the sight of a new pair of boots waiting for him inside the door. They were sturdy, yet soft and well made, with a thick heel made for travel. Above the boots, on a peg, hung a traveling cloak of deep blue. He smiled. Fili must have gotten paid. It was so very like him to think of Thorin first.

He found Fili sound asleep on the pallet. Thorin was relieved. He knew his nephew hadn't slept in days, which he attributed to his nervousness about the unveiling of the painting. Now that he was paid and the painting had been well-received, Fili could rest.

Thorin joined him in sleep not long after.

\- - - - -

"Thank goodness for no rain," the Master muttered.

Having chosen his finest cloak for the day, he had yet been making arrangements since the break of dawn, arrangements that he knew his son would most likely forget. He hadn't expected his servant boy to be up and running already, making sure they had provisions for the road and food for the horses. There had been little left for him to do. Three guards would accompany them as Kili made his first steps into politics. They were scheduled to stay as guests in the households of several influential noblemen. The Master forgave him for insisting that he didn't want to travel too laden with belongings and wanted to get out on his own two feet and had therefore chosen not to be accompanied by any of his friends, save Balin and Dwalin.

He clasped a hand on Kili's shoulder. Down the steps of the courtyard stood the carriage, and the servant boy was walking to and fro with the last luggage. "So," he said, "off into the world at last. I remember you running around as a little boy, waving your wooden sword around and declaring you would conquer it all. And here you are." He smiled at Kili—a rare thing for him to do—and inclined his head. "I am glad you take Balin along."

Kili, whose nerves had not reached a level this high before, so afraid that he would be found out, laughed. "It was either him or Oin. I prefer to be stuck with Mr. Balin. He knows good stories."

"Oh, he does." The Master watched as Ori walked up the stairs again, bowed, and said to him, "We're ready, my lord."

"Ready?" The Master asked Kili.

"Sort of," nodded Kili.

"Then go, my son. I will see you in six weeks' time."

Kili awkwardly bowed to him—they had never been the type of father and son that hugged or showed kindness to each other in public at all—and paused, before finally walking down the steps and getting into the carriage. That was it then. His old life was up those steps. He could still return, still stop this.

But then he thought of Fili, and his nerves turned into jitters. "Ready?" he asked Ori, who joined him inside. Kili made sure his father couldn't see them from where he stood, reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Let's go."

"Kili, do you trust me?" Ori lay a hand on his arm. "I have one final errand to run before we can depart, and it would be best if you did not know of its nature."

With everything that had passed the day before, Kili deflated. More secrets. Why did something he had looked so forward to, now become something that he almost dreaded? "I trust you," he sighed. "Fine. Go."

"My belongings are already in the carriage," Ori told him, hoisting a bulging satchel. I should be back very shortly." He bowed to his Young Master and departed the manor.

Ori walked, head down and studying the cobblestones, to the colony. He raised a hand in greeting and gave a smile to the guards as he passed en route to Frerin's cottage. When he arrived, he gave a knock on the door. "Gem cutter?" he called out, "I've brought your new clothing from the Master!"

Frerin appeared almost as if he had been waiting for it. His hair was freshly washed and tied into a ponytail, a belt with tools hung around his hips. "I was beginning to think you had left," he said. "Is everything still going according to plan?"

"So far, aye," Ori smiled at him. "Can we—?" he gestured inside the cottage. When Frerin ushered him inside, Ori put the satchel down on the table. "There's a guard's uniform inside," he told him. "Wait for twilight, or slightly after, to leave. This uniform will give you the freedom you need to move about with reasonable anonymity. You should be able to change back into your regular clothing once you cross the great stone bridge and leave the city proper.

"Fili is going to tell Thorin about our plans today. He isn't sure if he'll be able to convince him to come along, even with the promise that you are meeting us. Nonetheless, the plan is that we all run into one another on the East Road. If that doesn't happen, we'll spend tonight and tomorrow night at the tavern—the Prancing Pony—before the wooden bridge, and meet up there. We will stay no longer than that. Understand?"

"The...Prancing Pony?" Frerin looked at him as if he had told him to find the edge of the world. "You forget I have not been outside these walls for decades. Is it far? Can I make it on foot? I have no steed to take me there, and I don't think it wise to ask a ride with people going that direction." Fetching a piece of paper and a quill, he placed it before Ori on the table. "Maybe you could draw me a map?"

They would run into each other on the East Road—everyone, and Thorin. "If the Master finds out..." he started.

"If the Master finds out about our coup, only Kili will survive his wrath," Ori bit his lip ruefully and sat down at the table. "The Prancing Pony would have been standing when you were imprisoned twenty years ago. The locals say it has been around well over two hundred years. It's at the great crossroads where the East Road meets the Southern Way," he drew a quick, neat map for Frerin. "Fili and Thorin will also be on foot. That's why we're staying an extra night—to give the three of you the opportunity to catch up. We cannot be seen leaving the city together. Once we're further away from the Master, traveling together won't be a problem."

He slid the parchment across the table. "Guard this with your life. Travel light. Fili was paid handsomely by the Master yesterday for his portrait. Kili and I have plenty of gold and gems. Perhaps they will have purchased horses. Perhaps it will only be Fili who comes. I don't know," he said sadly. "But I do hope you will be there. It means a great deal to Fili that you are away, and safe."

Frerin sighed. "I would be safe here, were you not running off. Is that what it is, a coup? I thought you were simply running away from things." He took the piece of parchment, folded it and put it into his inside pocket. Nobody would get their hands on it. Whatever it was, all they needed was not to get caught. "You should leave now. If you let anyone of that house wait, they might leave without you. I will do what I can to make it. If I can't make it to you, I will leave regardless. If they find out Kili is running away with Fili and Thorin, my life would be forfeit. In that case, this might be the last time we see each other. If I am not at the Prancing Pony by nightfall tomorrow, you tell Fili to tell Kili what I am meant to tell him, understood?" But it was more a request than a command.

"I call it a coup because that is what the Master will consider it," Ori told him. "Something tells me you know far too well of his wrath. Don't do anything foolish, Frerin," Ori reached for his hand to clasp it. "Come to us safely. I have a fairly good idea what this secret of yours might be. It's something you'll want to be there to deliver." He put his hood up over his head and slipped out the door without another glance back.

Frerin felt himself grow cold as he watched Ori leave from the door frame. So at least one of them knew. He looked at the bag in his hands, before retreating back into the safety of the shadows in his house. Tonight, it would have to be tonight. For someone who looked so timid, Ori certainly had a way with words.

\- - - - -

Despite his allowance of Ori to leave, Kili was not amused. He glared at Ori upon his return, marched back to the carriage and didn't hold the door open. Ori had barely sat down when Kili barked, "Drive!" sending the carriage moving and Ori's center of gravity shifting. The Master had come out again and was waving as he looked out the window. Kili gave him his best charade by waving back and giving his father a smile, but as soon as they were out of sight, the glare returned on his features.

"You didn't think I was going to desert you, did you, Young Master?" Ori asked as he too waved farewell to the Master and Alfrid, whom he would rather be punching than waving to.

As Balin was in the carriage with him, he didn't want to reveal the nature of his errand.

"...I just didn't want to have to desert you." Kili spoke without looking at Ori. All the stress of the last couple of days had finally reached its boiling point, and he knew he had to calm down rather than head into a discussion right now. "You left while we were ready to leave. I had to come up with some story about you having forgotten something to explain why instead of leaving we were actually getting out. It's...fine, you know. Let’s just be silent for a bit."

"I'm sorry," Ori whispered, and turned his face to the carriage's window, focusing on the sight of buildings moving past so he wouldn't succumb to the sadness he felt at disappointing Kili. The last thing he wanted to do was let Kili down on such an important day.

His thoughts turned to Fili and that brusque, handsome blacksmith uncle of his. He hoped things were going smoothly on their end.

\- - - - - 

Fili slept like the dead. He slept so late in fact that Thorin had already left for his forge when he finally awoke. Today was the day he had to try to convince Thorin to leave the city with him—with their brothers, Ori and others loyal to the Durins.

He was happy to see Thorin had worn his new boots. It brought a smile to his face as he ate a piece of bread just beginning to grow stale with what was left in the bottom of their honey jar. He dressed quickly and set off to the market, hoping to find Thorin at his stall. He steeled himself for the conversation ahead.

The stall was, however, unoccupied and devoid of anything Thorin wanted to sell. Instead a young man with red hair stood where he expected Thorin to be, the table littered with fruits, some fresh and others close to rotting. "Hello," he smiled. "Can I help you with anything?"

Fili took a step back, looking to the left and the right, assuring himself that'd he'd come to the right spot. The potter and the dyer who kept the stands next to Thorin's were still in place. "Do you know where the man is who normally keeps this stall?" he wondered, the knots that had taken up residence in his stomach over the past few days making a slow but sure return.

The young man blinked, caught by surprise by the question. "Uh..." he stammered. "Who normally keeps this stall? I only applied for a market spot with the council and this one was the first one that became available. All I heard was that he couldn't pay for the rent for it anymore. Sorry. Maybe he'll be back as soon as he makes some money?"

_Blast it all, Thorin and his accursed pride!_ It would be just like Thorin not to tell Fili about his financial problems. "Thank you," he said to the youth. "I wish you the best of luck here. It's a thriving marketplace."

Fili turned back to the street and looked about helplessly. Thorin wasn't at home. Surely he wouldn't be at the pub this early? Nonetheless, Fili found his feet turning towards The Shire, only two blocks away, and going inside, scanning the dim rooms for a sign of his uncle.

The keeper leaned towards him as soon as he spotted him. The place was nearly empty, aside from two patrons in one corner and one in another, and so the good man had the time to see what he could do for a fourth customer. "Morning, lad," he grinned. "Breakfast?"

There was no sign of his uncle in here either.

"Thank you, but no. I was just looking for someone," Fili told him. Exiting back onto the street, he bit at his thumbnail nervously, wracking his brains as to where Thorin might have gone. "Of all days, Uncle, why today?" he asked aloud.

Passing men looked at him oddly but made no comment. Fili was alone, with Thorin nowhere to be found. There was nothing to do but to return home and check his belongings a last time.

When Fili did, Thorin sat waiting. "Ah, there you are," he smiled. "I went to get you some food for on the road, but you weren't here when I got back. You did not buy food, did you?"

"Thorin!" Fili exclaimed, rushing to hug him. "I couldn't find you anywhere, and I thought...oh, no matter what I thought," he chuckled in relief. "Why are you out buying me food when you can't even afford to keep your stall in the market?"

Questioning, concerned eyes turned up at him and Thorin pursed his lips. He looked almost fragile then, like a secret had been found out. He coughed. "Never mind that. Paperwork. I'll have a stall again before the end of the month. I bought you food for your travels. You need to eat well when you are on the road." His expression steeled itself. Thorin canted his head. "The baker's boy told me the most interesting story though. How the Young Master and his entourage are leaving the city at the very same day."

"Um yes," Fili sat down in the chair opposite Thorin, "about that...there's something I need to tell you. Ask you too, I suppose."

"You are leaving with them." Thorin sighed. "What did I tell you, Fili?"

"I am, Thorin. So are Balin and Dwalin. And Uncle Frerin," he paused a moment to allow this to sink in. "We are all hoping you'll come as well. Will you?"

"...Say that again?"

Thorin knew he had heard correctly though. Fili had done exactly what he himself had never dared to do. If his assumptions were correct, then they were in grave danger. The moment that Frerin would be discovered missing, they would come to this door. He rose from his seat, stuffed the meager meal back into the bag and fetched a hammer and a sword. It was a customer commission, made in the likeness of a famous old sword long passed into legend, but it was still sharp enough to be of use.

"We need to leave," he said. "You have five minutes, Fili. By the gods, what have you done? Get what you need, because we will not be coming back here again."


	15. The Prancing Pony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili finally learns the truth.

"I'm packed, Thorin," Fili assured him. "I have been for days. I have ten gold pieces in my bag. It's not much, but Kili's bringing plenty. He's assured me it's to be shared by all of us. Frerin cannot risk leaving the colony until tonight. Ori slipped him a guard's uniform. I think it would be best if we waited for him just on the other side of the stone bridge."

Thorin stared at him. "You calculated me into your plan, did you not? Without informing me, you leave me no choice but to leave everything behind. Have you considered your mother? What if they find my brother gone, and then me? _That's_ where they'll go next." He hooked two knives into a large yet tattered travel cloak and slung the bag over his shoulder. "We'll talk about this when we're out of anyone's hearing range. Come with me."

Although it had never been his plan to leave, Thorin knew the alleys of the city like the back of his hand. They passed mostly unseen until they reached the borders of the city. Nobody in the market would have seen them and be able to tell the tale, and those who did see them knew how to keep their mouths shut for an old comrade of an old bloodline that they had always favored over the one of the Master.

Thorin slipped the guard a few silver—his last three—to let them pass with the promise not to tell anyone, and then they were out.

"Here," Thorin pulled Fili off the road. "Too much traffic. We'll be seen if we stay here. Where is Frerin? Are you absolutely certain he must wait until night?"

"I was just in the colony a few days ago. It's guarded, as you know. At night, dressed as a guard, he can move most freely. He must wait until it's mostly dark," Fili turned to him. "It was never my intention to trick you, or leave you behind," he explained. "The plan is to go get mother, and then we all head south. Far south, to the sea. I suppose to you that sounds like madness. But we'll all be together. Surely, you want that, Thorin?"

They started walking. Fili was right; Frerin needed to leave by night, and then it would be too dark to spot him from a distance. "I did not expect it could be done. Fili, what we're doing...it's treason. We'll be sentenced to death if we're caught. Until Kili knows the truth, the Master will still have the lie about his heritage to use against us." He stopped in his tracks. Quite unexpectedly, he pulled Fili into a hug. "I don't know where you got the idea, and you have made a lot of bad choices, but if you pull this off...I never dared dream that it could be."

"I'm still very angry at you for hiding this from me, Thorin," Fili's mouth was set in a grim line. "I cannot lie about that. And had I never met Kili—never fallen for him—this would never have happened. What a terrible secret for you to have to keep to yourself. The pain you carried. I only wish you had told me sooner. It hurts me that you hid the truth from me," he murmured into Thorin's shoulder. "I only want for our happiness. For Kili's, Ori's, Frerin's, mother's and yours."

"That's a lot of people," Thorin couldn't help but suppress a smile. "Keep in mind that until recently, there was no way of getting Frerin out at the same time as Kili. It's not over yet, but I've not gotten us this far yet." He looked Fili over. Somehow, without him noticing, Fili had grown up. "Come, I assume they're already waiting for us past the bridge, and I'm looking forward to seeing old friends again."

"You must have done something right," Fili hoisted his heavy satchel over his shoulder as they walked in the direction of the bridge, "to have the respect of some of the Master's guards. Perhaps there are some kingly qualities in you, Thorin."

"Kili is a Durin in many ways that he doesn't know," Thorin agreed. He smiled kindly at Fili then and added without pressure, "I look forward to the day I may talk to him as a Durin. I wonder what he has to say about his mother. But Fili, I think we should tell him before they meet. Dis has a strong heart, but you have to know that Kili is her weak spot."

"We shall have to tell him as soon as we're all together, before we go see Mother," Fili agreed. "Should one of us tell him privately...or all as a group? Balin and Dwalin surely know the truth, do they not?"

Thorin patted him on the back for comfort. "You should be the one. The only ones there who don't know will be Kili and Ori. Considering your background with him...well." He lowered his head. It wasn't easy to talk about these things. "Since you're running away with him first and foremost, I assume there's a small chance you haven't given up on him as something more than a brother, am I right?"

"If only you'd told me sooner, Thorin," Fili lamented. "If I had known when I met him, I would never considered..." his voice fell away, leaving the rest unspoken. "As it stands, I _do_ have feelings for him that I should not. But all that will be taken care of when I tell him the truth, for he'll probably hate me. Hate us all."

Thorin did not answer that, for Kili probably would. He would be confused at best, but Thorin feared the anger of a man who had been raised to expect certain things in life, and who would demand them if not given. "Perhaps you should tell Ori first. I think that if anyone has the power to calm him down, it'll be that lad. Either way I hope we can make it before nightfall. These aren't the best regions to be around after night." He stopped next to a bush, inspected the berries, them plucked a few off and handed half of them to Fili. "This should keep you from going hungry for a while."

Fili wasn't hungry. He was worried sick about the safety of Frerin and the others. But he didn't want to disappoint Thorin, so he popped the berries into his mouth, barely tasting them as he chewed and swallowed. "I keep thinking about Frerin," he voiced his concern. "Should we double back, try to find him?"

"Have you discussed a place to meet?" Thorin wondered. "We will not see him if we simply try to find him in the dark. He will come from the colony, but undoubtedly he will take a detour first. I know my brother. If you have discussed a place to meet, then I will wait for him there. You need to go though. You have come this far."

"If he didn't run into us on the road, we were all to meet up at the Prancing Pony—the inn at the crossroads," Fili told him. "Kili and his entourage are probably already there. That's where you and I should be headed. I just... I want Frerin to be safe. Something tells me he hasn't done a lot of fighting in the past twenty years."

"I don't think he has." Thorin looked ahead, where the road continued on until trees obscured it from his view. "How about we head to the Prancing Pony and, come dawn, I will walk in his direction? If I still hold Dwalin's esteem, I could ask him to join me. We should be faster, there is no point searching for Frerin in the dark. Have faith, Fili, for he hasn't been free for the span of Kili's years. He will be careful." He marched ahead and hoped Fili would follow. The sooner they made it, the better.

Fili fell into step beside his uncle. The only way they would get through this would be to focus on moving ahead. Looking back could be deadly.

As darkness fell, they finally reached the Prancing Pony. Fili was relieved to see the Young Master's carriage parked outside.

Before they reached the door, a man came stumbling out. He moved to the carriage to check the locked door, then turned slowly when he noticed he had company.

"...Thorin?" Dwalin broke into a laugh. "Thorin Oakenshield! What brings you here, in the middle of nowhere? What an unexpected chance!"

Fili's hand moved slowly to the sword on his belt. "Uncle?" he asked cautiously. He had never heard the word 'Oakenshield' before. It didn't bode well.

Thorin stepped forward however and pulled the man into a hug that spoke of devoted camaraderie. "Dwalin!" he grinned, "The same reason as yours, actually. Oh, it is _good_ to see you again! I was not aware you would be here. You have changed, my friend. Tell me, how have you been?" He gestured Fili closer. "Fili," he smiled at him, "you remember Mr. Dwalin, don't you? He used to come over at our house when you were a kid."

Fili studied the older man carefully. "I'm sorry, Dwalin," he said finally, when the man stepped into the light of the lantern by the tavern door. "It's—-well, it has been a long time. And today's a nerve wracking one. I'm glad you're here for Thorin."

"Oh lad, I'm not here for him. Though, had I known he'd be here, I would have been waiting. Everyone's inside, and waiting for you—one in particular. Go on," Dwalin spoke with joy, "let him know he can stop worrying now. He's been on edge since we left the city."

A smile spread slowly across Fili's face. "Thank you," he nodded to Dwalin, then turned and entered the tavern's dining room. He found Kili, surrounded by Ori and a few others he didn't recognize at a corner table. He lowered his hood as he approached the table and his eyes met Kili's. "Hello," was all he could say.

The man's face lit up at once. He straightened, looked at the time—just past seven in the evening—and compared that to Ori's reasonable deduction that they wouldn't get here until nine or ten at the earliest. Which meant that they had made haste. Relief took over the tension over worrying if Fili was going to make it. "You're here," Kili said. "You made it." He longed to do so many things—to kiss him and pull him close, to tell everyone that things would be fine now, because the man who had inspired the journey was here—but he sat simply brimming with happiness until Ori nudged him up.

Kili took Fili's hand and immediately pulled him upstairs to the sleeping quarters for privacy. He closed the door to the room his bed had been made in behind him, turned to Fili, and was on him at once.

He had been so afraid Fili wouldn't come.

Tears came far too easily to Fili's eyes as he held Kili tightly. "Kili," he breathed his beloved's name like a prayer. "Thorin came with me. He's outside with Dwalin. Has Frerin arrived yet?"

"Not yet. Ori said he left at sunset." Kili examined Fili as if he expected him to disappear into smoke at any minute. When Fili didn't, Kili kissed him desperately. His hands pulled him close. Nothing could come between them now; no marriage, no troublesome father, nothing. "That means he'll be here in the morning, Ori says. So you brought Thorin. The company has been placing bets on whether he'd be here. I don't care." He kissed Fili again and this time his lips lingered, addicted to Fili's as they were. Fingers started creeping under his shirt. "You're here."

"Kili," Fili reached for the errant hand and stopped it from questing. "Kili, please hold. There's something I have to tell you. And it simply _cannot_ wait."

Kili was naturally curious, but tonight he needed only to feel Fili and have him tangible. "Tomorrow," he bargained, using the halted hand to bring that one up to Fili's cheek and cup it.

Conflicted, Fili could only lay his forehead against Kili's. He felt the longing to kiss him, hold him...to do _more._ "Tomorrow," he agreed, slipping an arm around Kili's waist. "But we should go join the others now. I'm genuinely worried about Frerin."

We don't need to join the others just yet," Kili whispered against his shoulder. "We've got a room with a lock, and Ori probably told them we need to make plans for what's to come. Please, just a little longer. Frerin is most likely on his way." Kili's voice cooled then. "I know he's your uncle, but I talked to him yesterday, and I don't like him very much. He said there were secrets that he couldn't tell me yet. He said he'd tell me when he joins us, but I have this...suspicion he'll just use the occasion to escape and run off. Why was he captured, Fili?"

"Frerin wasn't captured," Fili defended his uncle's honor. "He came willingly to your father's house, bearing...well, bearing a gift, of sorts. The Master was displeased and he kept Frerin, to ensure a secret. Kili, don't make me start speaking of this. I'm certain you won't like what I have to tell you."

Fili's blue eyes locked with Kili's, begging him to either cease speaking or simply let him tell his secret.

But when Kili connected the thing Fili wanted to talk about with the infuriating secret of Frerin, he needed to know. "It feels like suddenly the whole world is keeping secrets from me. My father kept Frerin _to protect that secret_? My father is in on it too?" He disentangled himself from Fili and sat down on the bed. Suddenly Kili looked small. He had thought the hardest part, that of waiting to see whether Fili would make it to the Prancing Pony or not, was over.

"Well, out with it then," he sighed.

Fili sat down next to Kili on the bed. "Before I begin, I want you to know that most of this information was kept from me as well, Kili, until only a few days ago. Please believe me when I tell you that I love you. I love you so much," he squeezed Kili's hand, and when Kili only nodded for him to continue, he did so.

"When I was a very little boy, my family lived and thrived in the city. It was my mother, Dis, father, Nali, and uncles, Thorin and Frerin—brothers to my mother. Our family, the Durins, was once far more influential than we are now. Even though we'd somehow fallen from favor, the Master still looked kindly on us. So kindly, in fact, that my mother was Mistress Fianna's midwife when she got pregnant for the first time. Sadly, that baby died in childbirth."

Kili’s brow wrinkled in confusion, still Fili went on to tell about the Master's anger at Dis, demanding her baby in return, and how, upon that baby's birth, Nali and Frerin brought him to the city.

"My father must have had a change of heart when it truly came time to turn that baby over to the Master," Fili told him. "He rebelled, and the Master's guards beat him. He died of his injuries. Fearing more rebellion from our family and friends, the Master not only took the baby, but took Frerin into custody. His safety would be contingent on the rest of the family staying away, and never, ever telling the secret that the Master's son was truly one of them."

Fili studied Kili's face carefully. "Do you understand what I'm telling you, Kili? That baby—it was you."

Kili frowned, not fully understanding at first, but knowing it wasn't good. "You're telling me...that brother that was supposed to have died in childbirth..."

Oh.

He clasped a hand in front of his mouth. "You're lying!" he looked up at Fili in accusation. "I have a father, and he's not dead. He rules the lands I am set to inherit as he steps down. I have no older brother. I would have been the oldest one if my mother had gotten a second child. So what is it exactly that you're saying, Fili?"

"I'm saying," FIli took a deep breath to steady himself for what he had to tell Kili, "that you have been deceived all your life, Kili. You were the child Dis was pregnant with when Mistress Fianna lost her own baby. The Master demanded you be handed over as payment for her perceived incompetence as a midwife. He took you as his own child. And while you are technically the heir to the duchy, by _blood_ , you are my brother. My little brother."

He continued, impassioned, when Kili's eyes grew impossibly wide. "Now you see why I had to tell you as soon as possible. I didn't learn the truth until after we'd been intimate, that night at the ball. I've been trying, since then, to avoid doing anything you might regret, even though—God, help me—I still want you."

But Kili had grown cold. His hands trembled in his lap. Fili spoke like this was a reunion, but all that Kili could make of it was the end of everything he had. He had lost his father and the memory of his mother; in their stead came the bitter taste of imposters. Sure, he had gained a new family, yet it was a family he didn't want. A brother he didn't want. Kili's upbringing turned out to be pointless, his title empty. His heart lost to someone who had become so distant that he wanted to scream.

Because Kili knew it to be truth. Ori had mentioned it, had he not? How he resembled Frerin so much in features; and Thorin, he looked more like Thorin than Fili himself did.

He couldn't have what he wanted, not anymore.

All he had, now, was his name.

"Please get out," he whispered.

"I don't think you should be alone, Kili," said Fili, extending his hand to him. The blond wanted desperately to reassure Kili that the feelings he had for him hadn't changed; that he'd be loved, cherished, protected by his family. "I don't _want_ to leave you."

"Get out!" Kili ordered. "I don't want you here! Haven't you ruined enough?!"

Lest anyone hear the ruckus and come running to discover Kili in the company of escaped fugitives, Fili got to his feet and went to the door as the Young Master requested. 

"No one told me either," Fili tried to explain. "Not until a few days ago. I know you have everything to lose and I have nothing. Except you. You I don't want to lose." With those words, Fili slipped out of the room and shut the door softly behind him.

He suddenly couldn't breathe. Fili rushed downstairs and outdoors, cloak streaming behind him. When he reached the middle of the East Road, he paused, hunched in on himself, trying to pull air into the shrunken sacks his lungs had become. 

Kili hated him now.

Back in the room, Kili was in no better position. He sat still as a statue, afraid that if he moved, the tears would come. They came anyway, and so he moved to the door and locked it from the inside before sliding to the floor in defeat.

It would have been better if Fili had simply not shown up. His heart would have been able to take a rejection easier than this cruelty which dictated they would forever be tied to each other without the ability to love the way he loved him. And cruelty it was; Kili longed to run back to the safety of the keep, where he could hide away from the world for months if need be, yet he would never see the man he had called his father as that anymore. And the Master would be able to tell.

\- - - - -

When he finally got his breathing under control and quieted the thudding anvil that was his heart, Fili heard the sound of running water. In the dim light, he saw a stream nearby, off the side of the road. Next to it was a huge willow tree whose branches skimmed the water's surface. It seemed like a good place to sit, hidden, and watch for Frerin.

Fili sat down with his back against the trunk of the tree. He simply couldn't face anyone. Kili's reaction just confirmed the shame he should be feeling. There was a word for what he'd done. _Incest._ Hugging himself, he shivered against the chill and prayed for Frerin's safety. 

He only had a rough fifteen minutes to himself before Ori found him. Timidly the man offered Fili the cloak he had forgotten and mumbled, "It might be raining in a bit." 

It was a hidden plea to sit down next to him. After Fili had stormed out, Ori had gone looking for Kili and found only a locked door with the faint sound of sobs behind it. He had spent ten minutes trying to be allowed in, before he figured that if he couldn't help Kili, then maybe he could be of help to Fili, though he had no idea what was going on. "You're waiting for your uncle, aren't you?"

Fili nodded, eyes never leaving the darkened road. "Kili's upset with me, Ori," he told him. 

"I noticed," Ori spoke softly. "I'm not here to ask you about him. Is it okay if I just sit with you for a while?"

Again, Fili nodded, patting the space behind him. When Ori sat, Fili slid closer to him, leaning over and resting his head on Ori's shoulder. "It will be a long, painful journey if he hates me, Ori. But you cannot let him go home. Not now."

Ori smiled sadly. "Kili would not go home. He is far too proud for that." He stroked Fili's hair in an attempt to calm him down, but Ori was just as distressed as both his friends. "He won't be the Young Master anymore. That'll take some getting used to. I know him though. He's a survivor." He closed his eyes in the dark of the evening. "I heard you brought along Thorin."

"Aye, Thorin came," Fili squeezed Ori's hand. "You _knew_ , didn't you? Somehow you gathered that Kili was," he swallowed over the lump in his throat, "that he was my brother."

"I had hoped I was wrong." Ori let his head slump forward in defeat. "It wouldn't be fair on Kili if I were right. He's spent his whole life in that place. His mother—his biological mother—he loved her _so much_. Just as he loves you in ways he cannot, now. I wish it weren't so. That makes Frerin his uncle by blood. That's why he was in the artisan village, wasn't he?"

"He was there to keep Thorin and my mother in line," Fili told him. He took a few moments to explain the entire situation to Ori. "Thorin told me all of this the morning after the ball, Ori. After I'd—after _we_..." he sobbed. "He will never trust me, Ori. I should have told him this while we were still in the city. At least then he could have decided to stay with the Master and enjoyed the riches of his station. Now, he cannot even have that. He's right. I have ruined things for him. I was selfish. I should have simply left the city."

Ori didn't know what he could do to make Fili feel better. He was always good at just being a listening ear, but there were things that needed to be said. He struggled with the words. "That wouldn't have made it better. Well, you leaving the city would have made it better, but Kili wouldn't have agreed. I wouldn't have agreed. The way you say it, your uncle was also there to keep you in line. But don't underestimate Kili's need to be free from his...father. It's not just you. You just happened to be there in the right place at the right time." He cringed. "You know what I mean. Just, what are your intentions with him now, now that he knows?"

"I suppose I just want him not to hate me when all is said and done," Fili said, and his tone was so despondent that Ori had to know it was only half a truth. "I want us to be able to be brothers. I want him to trust me. I hope he'll come to understand that the secret's been kept from me as well, until not long ago."

Fili's words struck a chord of sadness in Ori. There was no room in this world for the love that the man he had called his master for the larger part of his life harbored. "Give him time to get used to the idea," he tried, though he wanted to shout at Fili _not_ to want him as a brother.

"He thinks it's all been a trick my family played on him," Fili said sadly. "But Ori, he picked _me._ I would never have even known he existed if he hadn't approached me in the marketplace. Help him understand that. What scares me more is that, if I had never met him—my uncle would have never told me the truth. If I let myself think about that for too long..." he dropped the thought.

Ori squeezed Fili's wrist. "He picked you, but if he knew, a lot of things would have been different. Maybe you should talk with your uncle about this. He's going to notice when Kili starts acting weird around him. Truth be told, Kili's been on edge all afternoon because he was afraid you wouldn't come. And it _is_ a big deal. Give him time."

"Not come?" Fili marveled. "How could he ever think that? I'd walk through fire for him."

"You did spring Frerin on him. And now Thorin, who never liked him much to begin with." Ori breathed out and pulled the hood of his cape over his head. The rain was only barely a drop, but he needed something to keep himself busy. "A lot happened between the last time you saw him and the moment we left. He's...been very stressed. He loves you a lot, you know. I know him well enough to know that when he took you away from the others, he needed you alone."

"And then he pushed me away. Not that I blame him," Fili said. "The news must be devastating to him. To learn his whole life was a lie. I hope he never stops caring for his mother—Mistress Fianna. How can you turn away from a woman who raised you so lovingly? I am not asking that of him, Ori. I only wanted us to get away and find happiness. How will I ever make this right?"

Ori stood up. He crouched in front of him. "Give him time. I mean what I say, Fili. You did throw everything upside down, if you consider whom he believes to be family and who was supposed to be his love incarnate. No good will come of it if you pressure him into changing his view of the world faster than he can handle, and that's what you'll do if you don't give him time."

He squinted into the darkness. Ori was sure he had seen a shadow there. A second later he gasped. He _had_ seen a shadow. "You were supposed to leave at dusk!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here so soon?"

"Is that...?" Fili got to his feet, nearly tripping over his cloak in the process. "Frerin?"

Frerin laughed, barely able to believe he had found them here. "There was an increase in guards, don't know why. So I took my chance when I saw one. Nobody noticed; I asked one of the apprentices in my workshop if he could impersonate me or at least cover for me for a while. The guards never come in, so we'll be good." 

But his smile fell when he came close enough to see the distraught look on Fili's face. Frerin crouched. "Is everything all right? Did something go wrong?"

"We're all here," Fili assured him, embracing his uncle. "All of us, alive. It's...it's Kili. I _told_ him, Frerin. I had to tell him."

Frerin sighed. So it was done before he had a chance to. Frerin was glad on one side—it was better this way—but seeing Fili so miserable and knowing that Kili possibly felt worse did not make Frerin happy in the least. "Should I talk to him?"

"No!" Ori immediately said. Self-consciously, he quieted down at once. "It's just, you see, he's been upset all day and it's partially because you mentioned the secret to him. It's better if you let him seek you out, don't you think?"

"I had to tell him, Uncle," he told Frerin. "I couldn't wait another minute. I couldn't allow him to go on blindly loving me—being amorous," he blushed furiously, "and not know. It wasn’t fair."

Fili squared his shoulders. "My inclination is to take one of the horses and ride on ahead to Mother's. I'm not sure Kili is going to react to her well. I wanted to prepare her for our coming."

Frerin agreed without words. That would be a better idea than staying here and making things difficult for Kili. "Go in the morning," he said. "I will see that you have a horse, if our name is still worth something." He pushed himself up. "I will see Thorin now. There is a lot to discuss." He put a hand on Fili's shoulder. "Strength with you, little cub."

Fili's eyes followed his uncle's retreating form until he'd entered the tavern. Then he turned back to Ori. "We're all here now," he smiled softly. "But I shall have to deal with Mother." He also felt a ride alone would help him sort out his feelings about Kili. And Kili would surely be glad he'd left.

Ori reached out a hand for him. "But not tonight. Tonight you'll try to get some sleep. Promise me you'll at least try." He pulled him up to his feet and started leading him back to the tavern. Whereas everyone was in the common room, Ori walked up to the innkeeper and asked him for a separate room, preferably not close to the ones they already had. They ended up in front of a new bedroom for Fili alone. "I can keep you company," Ori said, "but I think Kili needs it too. Will this be all right?"

Fili nodded, looking for all the world like a scared little boy. "I _know_ Kili needs you. Go to him. I'll be leaving before dawn," he pulled Ori to him and hugged him fiercely. "I know you love him, Ori. Probably far more than I do. So I won't be so callous as to ask you to fight for me. But if you can try to help him not hate me—to think of me as a brother who loves him very much—I'd be very grateful. Goodnight," he said, putting a soft kiss to Ori's cheek and slipping into the small empty room where a fire crackled and a narrow single bed waited for him.

He left Ori at a loss outside the door. Ori stood for a while, thinking Fili's words over, wondering if they were emotional ones that he didn't mean, or if that was truly his intention. When the floor grew cold beneath his feet and minutes had passed by, he willed himself to move at last. Kili's door was locked, though he tried one last time nonetheless. Knocking, Ori asked softly, "Kili? Can I come in?"

There was no answer for a long while, but just when Ori was about to leave, a quiet voice replied, "In an hour? Give me some time?"

Stubbornly, Ori tried the door anyway, but found it to be locked. He sighed, but not loud enough for Kili to hear. He couldn't imagine what Kili was feeling right now.

His feet made their way back to the tavern's warm main room. He found Thorin and Frerin sitting together and drinking ale, flanked protectively by Balin and Dwalin. The smile on Thorin's normally stoic or scowling face was worth the journey alone. He felt as if he should offer his services to these men, but they were his equals. They were all equals now.

He went to the thick wooden bar and ordered his own drink from the barkeep. It was dark and hoppy, not as refined as the smooth, fragrant ales the Master kept in his cellars. Ori timidly slid into a seat across from Frerin, offering him a small smile, and simply listened to their stories and sketched them as the ale warmed his belly. 

As time often did when he was lost in his drawing, the time passed quite quickly. He wasn't sure if Kili truly welcomed his company, but still he hoisted his satchel and bid goodnight to the quartet at the table.

Ori knocked timidly, then more firmly on Kili's room door. "Kili?" he called out, not wanting to disturb the other boarders.

Silence. Then, a shuffling.

When Kili unlocked the door, he was already walking back to the bed while Ori came in. If he felt as forlorn as he looked, things were bad. But Kili didn't speak, other than, "Close the door behind you."

Ori complied, and immediately sat on the edge of the bed where Kili had already lain down. "Kili," he said, putting his hand over the Young Master's. "I wanted you to know that I didn't know about this. But I did have suspicions. That night we went to visit Frerin, the resemblance between the two of you was so strong. And your mannerisms..." his voice petered out. "How are you faring?"

Kili laughed bitterly, brokenly. "Oh, so the secret is officially out to the world now too? It would have been too much to ask to wait for a few days, wouldn't it have been?" Fili could do little right, not tonight, but that was really the icing on the cake. "How does it look like I'm faring? It is the end of anything between us. I'm his _brother_. Of all the secrets he could have had, he picks the one that ties me to him always."

"All those men downstairs—Balin, Dwalin—they have always known about who you truly are. They stayed in the service of the Master to protect you. But Fili...why, Thorin only told him the truth the morning after your coming-of-age ball. Just like you, he's lived all this time without knowing. Why do you think he hasn't been eating, or sleeping? The truth is destroying him, for—despite all this—he wants you still."

"But I can't," Kili grasped for a thread of support and missed it, "be his brother and the one who owns his heart. I can't just give up my heritage and get a family in return that binds me in something I do not want to be. To think of what we've done, what I wanted to do...oh, the gods are truly merciless." He pushed his head into his pillow and let out a cry. "It's not fair. It's not!"

\- - - - -

Sleep eluded Fili as his mind raced and his heart ached. He had gotten up to go downstairs for an ale to help his cause, but wound up outside Kili's inn room door. The thin wood allowed every painful word to reach his ears. Each one was a dagger to his heart. 

Kili had a family, who had been aching from the loss of him for twenty years, and yet he did not want them. He no longer wanted Fili. All their plans and dreams had been for naught, for Kili would never accept being part of a family of poor artisans. Deep down, he'd grown used to the comforts and wealth of life in the manor. Who would want to give that up? 

He'd been warned by Frerin to wait until morning, but Fili simply couldn't wait. He needed to prepare his mother for how Kili was reacting—to prepare her for rejection, and for escape. If he left now, he'd arrive just after the sun rose. 

Fili returned to his room and gathered his belongings into two satchels, which he wore criss-crossed over his chest under his green cloak. He went downstairs to the tavern, stealthily avoiding his uncles, and negotiated the purchase of a horse from the tavern stables. It was a lovely white mare who seemed eager to be getting out of her stall.

"North we go, girl," he told her, digging in his heels. "Let's go see Mother."


	16. It Won't Always Be Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth isn't sitting well with Kili, so he goes for a walk. Fili has a heart-to-heart talk with his mother.

He had thought he wouldn't get sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, Kili's mind played over the moments between him and Fili that should never have happened, sinful as they were. Where there had been a jolt of desire once, there was now a festering guilt—repulsion, almost, though Kili hated to be repulsed by what they had done. He would rather be repulsed by being Fili's brother than pushed away by the feelings that had been between them.

But somewhere around four in the morning, he must have dozed off. When he woke, it was at a knock on the door and a gruff voice calling out, "Kili? Ori? We'll be leaving in a bit. Come have breakfast."

Right. Frerin. Kili still had to get used to the man, let alone consider him an uncle. He would go with 'guard' for now. Kili mumbled something in acknowledgement and rubbed his eyes. He nudged Ori awake. He must have been by his side all night, for he slept half on Kili's bed and half on the floor.

"So I fall from heir to the lowest of the family," he muttered. The youngest son. There was nothing that allowed him to demand respect from anyone. Was that how Ori had felt, all those years?

"There's nothing wrong with being the youngest," Ori told him, voice hoarse with sleep. "It's rather nice, actually. My brothers taught me so much; they've always taken care of me. If they didn't approve of you, Kili, believe me, I wouldn't be with you. That's how it is. You are loved, protected. It's a good feeling. I cannot imagine how painful it was for them to lose you."

From years of experience, Ori got quickly dressed and pulled his belongings together. He walked out into the hallway where he instantly collided with Thorin.

"Oh! Has Fili awakened yet?" he asked the gruff blacksmith.

The pained expression gave him an answer before Thorin spoke. "He rode ahead to inform his mother. How is...?" His nephew? The Young Master? How did Thorin even go about addressing Kili?

"Kili?" Ori wondered. "He's not faring well. The news has caused him considerable...distress."

"Does he still intend to continue on with us?" Frerin wondered, having overheard.

"Where else can I go?" Kili's words were bitter as he appeared behind Ori. To be honest, he was glad that Fili had gone. It would give him some time. "Only a day into the trip? I couldn't look at m—" He cut himself short. "You said there was breakfast." 

"We hope you'll come with us, Kili," Thorin told him, and he took a moment to truly take a good look at his nephew. The resemblance to a young Frerin was almost too overpowering for Thorin and it reminded him all too painfully off all had missed out on with his own brother. "I know the news of who you are has come as a blow. If you are as strong as Fili claims, I hope you won't let it break you."

"There are biscuits with honey downstairs," Frerin clapped him on the back. "And hot coffee. Come, Kili, I'll show you."

Kili was glad for the diversion. He didn't want to be talking about Frerin, or feeling forced to pass judgment over the situation. He definitely didn't want to give anyone his opinion on the news. So, unexpected as being grateful of Frerin turned out to be, Kili nodded and followed him. He tugged Ori along like he didn't have a choice.

"So you know Dwalin and Balin?" he asked timidly to change the topic.

"Not as well as my brother does," Frerin sank the carved wooden honey dipper into the pot on the table and poured enough for all of them to use. They ate by candlelight as dawn had not yet broken. "They served our father, when he was a...well, I guess you could say he was a Master in his own right."

The biscuits were fresh baked and warm and the tangy honey made Ori's taste buds dance. "If the history books are to be believed," he said around a mouthful, "your grandfather was a king."

"He was," Thorin confirmed. "They called him the King under the Mountain. We lived in cavernous stone and mined precious metals and gems from the earth. Frerin here comes from a long line of those skilled with fashioning gems."

"And you're a blacksmith," Kili pointed out with his mouth stuffed. He would kill for a piece of soft cheese right now, though he had known at departure that some luxuries would be lost to him. He leaned against Ori for support and friendship. "This food is surprisingly good. Ori, have a good meal. I'll pay for you." He nudged him. Kili's eyes were red-rimmed. "How do you feel about being out of the keep?"

"I feel scared," Ori admitted. "And free. I feel free. I feel as if good things can happen if I let them."

"You _must_ let them," Frerin smiled, laying his hand over Ori's. "Don't get to be our age and be filled with regret and bitterness like this one," he nudged his older brother.

Thorin huffed in feigned annoyance, but couldn't help smile. "I'll regret nothing," he said, "once we are away and to the south."

"Very soon," Ori smiled at the exchange between brother and brother. He didn't expect Kili and Fili to go back to casual banter; all the same he had not expected it between Frerin and Thorin. Thorin was always so serious, and Frerin...well, he didn't know what he thought about Frerin, but it wasn't this. Ori had at least expected him to be brooding or full of wrath for what the Master had done to him. He broke off a piece of bread and handed it to Kili.

The brunet appreciated his presence more than ever. "You _are_ free," he encouraged him. "You should go for a walk, or do something you wouldn't normally do. Go out." He eyed Thorin and Frerin and added, cautiously, "I might sit here for a while, if you don't bring up the thing."

"A walk?" Ori put down his mug of hot coffee and met the Young Master's eyes, "Kili, I _am_ exactly where I want to be."

Frerin smiled at the sentiment and pushed another biscuit Ori's way.

Ori must have not heard Kili's hidden request at attempting to be around his new family—uncles, thank god, for that wasn't as difficult as being a brother or a mother for Kili to wrap his head around—alone. There was no point insisting. "You'll visit your brothers?" he tried to make conversation.

"For a bit, yes," Ori told Kili. "I'm going to try to convince them to come with us."

"I doubt they'll take much convincing," Dwalin came up behind Ori, overhearing what he said. "Dori and Nori's loyalty goes way back."

"It's true," Thorin told him, nodding.

Peeved that running off with just his best friend and the man who had been his lover was growing into an ever-expanding party in which he felt like he didn't belong, Kili muttered, "Sure. In a minute now someone is going to tell me the innkeeper is an old friend and sympathizer and will be joining us too." He pushed a hunk of bread into his mouth.

"Not _this_ innkeeper, no," Balin informed him, "but the owner of The Shire, yes. He and his brother, Bofur, and their cousin, Bifur, will be meeting us shortly."

"I think you might be slightly underestimating your traveling companions," Ori leaned over and told Kili.

Nobody saw how helpless Kili was feeling. They just continued to make it worse and worse, adding fuel to a fire that was already an inferno. "Anything else I should know?" he asked with further sinking spirit.

Balin, who had been Kili's teacher since he was a child leaned in and lay a hand on Kili's shoulder. "Yes, lad. Know and _understand_ this: you have just been reunited with your true family—a family that was once powerful and will be powerful again. You are surrounded by people who love you and will die to protect you. As we travel south, there are more and more who will join us. It's perfectly understandable that you don't like the news you've been given—that you pity yourself for what you've lost, and that you feel tricked. But, at least try to understand that you are finally where you truly belong."

But Kili had only wanted Fili and Ori. He didn't know where he belonged, other than that someone telling him where that was—regardless of how high Kili's esteem for him— not what he wanted to hear. He felt almost like he was being kidnapped into a world he didn't want—had never _wanted_. Everything just happened outside of his control and everyone just expected him to be okay with that.

Well, he wasn't.

Kili put his bread down. He couldn't stomach another bite. "Right," he muttered. "If you'll excuse me." That said, he left the room for outside, ignoring anything anyone might say to him. He was already so sick of it.

"I'm sorry," Ori apologized for his friend's behavior. "This is all just... _too much_ for him right now."

"Can he be trusted not to do anything to endanger himself or any of us?" Dwalin wondered. 

"He is sick," Ori told them, "in his heart. It will pass in time."

Hearing that on his way out made Kili feel worse still. He didn't like having strong opinions about people who were all he had; Frerin was the man whom Kili had never asked for and Thorin almost the culprit of it all, just for having once had power that had drawn these men together. Balin was his teacher who was trying to get him to accept them without Kili's consent, and Dwalin mistrusted him while he had no right to even speak, considering he was supposed to be their _guard_. He was supposed to be the one who protected Ori and him from others.

Kili was unwilling to even think about Fili, lest he break down. And Ori, sweet Ori, was undoubtedly distracted by finally being with his family again. Kili could not blame him. At least he had always known who his family was.

He didn't want this. He just wanted...out.

Kili halted in the door opening, gears shifting into place, and made sure nobody saw him when he returned to the sleeping quarters. He wasn't thinking when he took his purse and his cloak and made it out before anyone noticed—everything just happened as if it was the natural way of things. Hanging his trusted bow over his shoulder, he crossed the bridge and at last disappeared into the woods that rose behind it.

It took him an hour of stubbornly marching forward, creating some distance, before he found a rock at a small stream, sat down, and cried in solitude.

"Mister?" a tiny voice called to him a few minutes later. "Mister, are you hurt? Do you need help?"

When Kili looked up, he saw two young lads with fiery red hair, no more than ten or eleven, both carrying fishing poles, nets and tackle bags. 

"Maybe he's forgotten how to fish, and he's hungry," the shorter one piped up.

Both kept a healthy distance from Kili.

Upon looking at them, Kili swallowed the agitated groan that almost got out. They looked innocent, unaware of everything; they could hardly be blamed for stumbling upon him when he wanted nothing but to be left alone. "It's—it's fine," he said with a shaky voice. "Don't worry about me. Go on, please."

"Mama says we should introduce ourselves to strangers if we want to become their friend," the little one continued, quite unaffected by Kili's tone. "I'm Muno. This is my big brother, Dru."

"He said we're to leave him alone, Muno," the older lad tugged at the younger's sleeve.

"He's _sad_ ," Muno informed his brother of the obvious. "Maybe he's lost."

Kili couldn't help but smile in his sadness. They didn't know who he was. He sniffed. "I'm lost, I suppose. I'm not really sure where I'm supposed to be going. That's why I'm here, I guess. It's okay. I shall just have to figure out where I need to go. It's a different kind of lost." It was nice not to think of everyone expecting things from him. The people he was trying to be away from. "If I wanted to hunt around here, where is the best place to find game?"

"There's nothing big in these woods, good sir," the older boy told him, "or Da wouldn't let us come here alone. Out here, I can take care of my brother and my family doesn't worry about us."

"There's squirrels and rabbits," Muno told him, eyes wide. "You didn't tell us your name."

Kili smiled now, tears drying on his cheeks. It was a pleasant distraction. "If I told you, I'd only scare you away. Rabbit and squirrels will be fine. I need some practice shooting anyway. Where do I find them?"

"Squirrels are in the trees, silly," the little boy told him, blue eyes sparkling merrily, "and the bunnies live in the ground."

"We don't kill them this time of year," Dru followed up with quickly. "That rabbit you kill could be a mother rabbit with four babies at home. Without her there to take care of them, they all die."

"Oh." Disappointed and feeling slightly guilty, Kili looked down. "Well, I suppose you are right. If that's the case, where is the nearest inn that is not by the bridge?" He wouldn't be spending much time in the wild, if it meant breaking apart more families.

"The Pony's the only inn for miles," Dru told him. "But the city-by-the-lake is a few hours down the road," he pointed in the general direction from which Kili had come. "Lots of place to stay there. Our Da grew up there."

And yet they didn't recognize Kili. He was glad for the absence of care of children for politics. "And the other direction?" he wanted to know. "I came from there. I'm looking for a new place now."

"The other road goes up into the mountains," Dru told him. "No one goes that way unless they're going home."

"Where's your home?" Muno asked Kili. 

"I had one in the city," the reply was honest. Kili's hope for an ending of his liking—living in the wild on his own, or finding sustenance in local inns until he figured out where to go—was dwindling. He had to go east or west then. "Anyway, you had best get going. It's early still, but I have a lot to do still. Be safe, all right?"

In other words, _off you go_. He needed to find a different place, in the case that these boys found one of the company that surrounded Thorin and told them of his whereabouts. Or worse, the Master.

"Lads!" a gruff, but kindly sounding male voice rang through the pines. "Where are you, bairns?"

"Over here, Da!" called Muno. "We found a man!"

The woodsman's footsteps sped up as he approached. "Did you get his name? If we've told you once, we've told you a hundred times, no talking to str—"

The man's voice petered off as he set eyes upon Kili. "Young Master!" he exclaimed, bowing deeply. "Why are you out here in the woods all alone?" He too had red hair and a long, red beard. "I am Gloin. My brother serves as your father's personal physician." 

Then, he leaned in and whispered, "Has it begun?"

As fast as his bad mood had temporarily been replaced by curiosity for the youngsters, as fast did it return upon the reminder that it was Thorin's group of people, Thorin's plan to reunite his people, that appeared to be all that mattered. Recognized, Kili couldn't help but play his part. "Aye," he returned in whisper. "They are gathered at the Prancing Pony. Best hurry and let them know you are here. I will join you later."

Gloin eyed the reluctant young Durin dubiously. "Why are you not with them, Kili of Durin? Today—of all days—it's terribly unsafe for any of us to be traveling alone. Lads," he swept his arm grandly towards Kili, "this fellow is the youngest member of the Durin family; Kili, by name, if I may be so bold."

Muno, as soon as his father mentioned that Kili was the youngest, approached Kili and smiled. 

"Da was just speaking of your family last night at dinner," Dru told him. "He says you're going to change things. People from our village are planning to travel with you."

" _We_ are planning to travel with you," Gloin smiled, puffing out his chest. "You will have my protection, young Kili of Durin. I served your grandfather in his last days as monarch. And I am guessing, by the state of you, that you only recently found out the truth about the Master."

To Kili, they seemed hell-bent on making him go back there, among the people he was trying to avoid. "That's good and proper, but could you _please_ go on ahead and leave me to myself as I've been trying to be?" he snapped at the older man. He had not the heart to lash out at the young boys, but he felt that if he wasn't going to be clear, nobody was going to leave him alone. "I will join with you later. Now please, go."

"I would like to respect your wish, Kili," Gloin told him, "but I recognize in you the signs of wanting to run from this. And I cannot say I blame you one bit for that. My house is just over that rise," the burly man pointed to where Kili could see smoke from a fireplace rising through a break in the trees. "Will you come to us when you're ready? My family and I would be pleased to accompany you."

Gloin took one of each of his son's hands and led them back towards the cottage. The little one turned and waved once before they disappeared from sight.

Kili wanted nothing more but to vanish. So far his plans for the future had been a big catastrophe, and his life lay in shambles. Rather than running the risk of getting cut at one of the sharp edges, he longed to just swipe the table clean and start anew. "Just leave me alone," he spoke with the voice of a man broken. "That's all I want."

He sank down when his wish was finally granted. Gloin was a man with a good heart, so he could tell. But, with all the best intentions at heart, he would only deliver him back to Thorin and Fili. So Kili chose not to go to his cottage. Instead his feet carried him further into the woods, until at long last the light became faint through the thicket above and the trees provided him with any shelter he might need. There, overcome by a weary fatigue, he sat down on a bed of moss against a mighty oak and let his eyes fall close.

\- - - - -

"I should have chased after him!" Ori lamented, pacing the length of the tavern's common room. "I should have known he'd run away. All the signs were there."

"You know him better than anyone, laddie," Dwalin tried to calm the frantic redhead. "Where d'you suppose he'd go?"

"Not home," Ori said immediately. "As angry as he is with us, he's probably even more upset with The Master. And he'd stay off the roads. He wouldn't want to be seen."

"That leaves only the woods," Thorin concluded. 

"We cannot just leave him out there alone," Frerin told them. 

"If he doesn't want to be found, he won't be," Ori concluded sadly. "He always outsmarted me at Hide and Seek. I also know he hates to spend too much time alone. I suppose he will come back, but in his own time."

"The longer we wait here, the sooner our chances of The Master discovering I've escaped. He will come looking for us," Frerin told them. "We need to keep moving."

"All of this will be for naught if we lose Kili," Balin sat down sadly, suddenly feeling his age. "I suppose none of us knows the right words to comfort him right now."

Ori's eyes were welling with tears and a sense of helplessness consumed him. "I would like to go looking for him," he concluded. "But I couldn't begin to guess which way he'd go."

"I can," Balin raised his head from where it was resting in his hands. "He wouldn't go north towards the mountains. And he certainly wouldn't head back east towards the city. He'd go the exact opposite of both. I propose the lad went southwest, into the woods."

"Gloin lives out that way," Thorin said thoughtfully. "Perhaps they'll cross paths."

"We can only hope," Dwalin put a comforting hand on Thorin's shoulder.

\- - - - -

They did cross paths again.

With the passing of light, unaware to Kili asleep, came great billowing clouds. The air cooled around him before the first droplets pitter-pattered on the forest soil, and then greater ones followed, having pooled on leaves before their weight became too much. By the time Kili was awake and shivering, the rain had become a downpour.

Everything else forgotten, he looked around for shelter. An uprooted tree provided a haven from the rain for a while. Kili sat shaking however, the wind cooling him in his rain-soaked attire, and soon the ground beneath him became soggier and soggier, until pools appeared in the hollow under the tree and forced him out.

With only his self-preservation on his mind, Kili ran back in the direction whence he had come. He recalled a small hut in the clearing he had passed on his way. He stumbled over a root when he wasn't looking at the ground and fell forward into the mud. That was what it took. Kili scrambled out, hoisted himself up against a tree, and cried of both frustration and the numbing cold. 

None of the woods looked familiar.

Hadn't he gone through enough?

He tried to make it further up the hill. Mud slipped under his feet and had him falling several more times. He used his frustration to push himself further, to keep himself going. The forest was growing darker in ways not because of the rain around him—night had to be falling. He willed himself to keep going, though he had no clue where his feet were taking him. As long as he kept moving, kept moving.

Kili kept moving for more than an hour before his strength was depleted and he finally fell to the ground. If he opened his eyes, he would only see mud and roots, and so Kili closed his eyes. He didn't understand why it was that, despite the cold and the wind, he felt warm. Burning. Distracted, he smiled at that.

He was so warm. So why was he shivering?

Faintly Kili thought he heard the sound of something heavy sloughing through the mud. He found the sound soothing. It sounded so simple to his ears, like nothing else mattered. He could imagine foot before foot, plowing forward through the terrain. There was no thought to it, no complication.

Nothing else did matter.

Kili breathed out and surrendered.

\- - - - - 

When he regained consciousness, Kili was lying down and the earth was undulating beneath him. Not the earth, no, he came to realize. He was in the back of a wagon, traveling along the road.

"Easy there, lad," a gentle voice urged him, placing a cool, wet cloth over his brow. "You're safe. You're among friends.

It was Bofur, he realized, one of the tailors who worked for his father. He turned his head weakly. The light of a lantern threw it rays upon the innkeeper from The Shire, Bombur, who sat on his other side, pulling a blanket up over him.

"You're a bit under the weather, Young Master," Bofur told him. "But don't you worry, now. We won't let anything happen to you."

"You should have stayed with your guardians, laddie," Bombur admonished, but not unkindly. "You could have died out here alone."

Sick with fever, Kili did nothing but try to deal with the headache as he pulled the blankets up higher. He felt so hot, but it wasn't enough to truly make him warm. He remembered he had been through this before. He had been young then, and they had said it would probably only happen to him once or twice if he paid attention. Well, he hadn't paid attention, had he?

But in his misery, Kili remembered why he had run. "They're...not guardians," he whispered hoarsely. "It's a prison. They tricked me." Before long, his voice shook. "Why? They don't need me. Thorin has his brother and his people. They don't care. But wherever I go, I am pushed back to them. I hate them, I hate them all. Please don't make me go back there."

"He's delirious and talking out of his head," Bofur said sadly. "When Oin finds us, he'll have some herbs to get the fever down."

"Lad," Bombur patted Kili's shoulder affectionately, "your family aren't your jailers. They're freeing you. They're going to free us all."

Kili heard a grunt of assent from somewhere above him, but he was too tired to turn his head to face the third man, the driver of the wagon.

"Get some rest, laddie," Bofur suggested. "We won't let anything happen to you."

Kili had little choice but to comply.

Left with nothing but his own thoughts, Kili soon fell into a deep fitful sleep. He did not wake until well into the next day, in a bed that he couldn't remember falling asleep in.

The fever broken, his throat was dry as parchment. Carefully he pushed himself up and looked for water.

"Hello there, my young friend," a warm, unfamiliar voice greeted Kili. He turned to see an old man in a long grey robe sitting next to his bed. "My name is Gandalf. Welcome to my home. You've been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours." He slid closer to Kili and offered him a mug half filled with cold well water.

Confused, Kili accepted the mug in two hands and drank from it. His body shook when he tried to hold the cup still. He stared. His stomach felt hollow and all of his strength was depleted. He had never felt so faint. "Your home?" he wondered. "Where are—" And at the memory of the men who had found him, a scowl came upon his features. "Are you another one of Thorin's men?"

"I am my own man," Gandalf chuckled, eyes sparkling merrily. "But I greatly admire Thorin Oakenshield's many accomplishments. I get the feeling you have not quite come 'round to that way of thinking yet, young Kili."

Gandalf took the mug from Kili and offered him a hand to help him sit up on the edge of the bed. "Bombur made us a stew in the other room. Would you care for some?"

Kili's stomach let out a growl in response. 

"I am guessing yes," Gandalf smiled.

Kili had never known hunger. He attempted to support himself on weak knees and ignored the praise of Thorin in favor of the promise of food. Was this how the common people felt daily? So he allowed Gandalf to lead him to the other room and, with eyes cast at the floor, mumbled that he'd like to have some food, please.

"Does anyone else in the city know about me?" Kili looked up at tall and gray Gandalf. "Does the Master know?"

"We do not know," Gandalf told him. "We'd like to think we have a few days head start on him. But, as you well know, spies abound, and are easily swayed by the prospect of a few gold coins. Bombur!" he bellowed, "a bowl of stew for Kili, please."

Now Kili could get a look at the three men who had brought him. Bombur and Bofur he recalled from the city. The third man was oddly quiet and appeared deep in thought. 

"Our cousin, Bifur," Bofur told him. Bifur, who had a scar on his forehead and a thatch of white hair running through the dark, nodded curtly and turned back to the small wooden toy he was whittling in the shape of a squirrel.

His silence was a welcome change for Kili. He thanked Bombur with a nod, decided not to tell Gandalf that he had considered going back to the city while nobody yet knew, and took up his bowl to sit with Bifur. There, he spoke not and asked nothing, but simply enjoyed the silence of the toymaker's company.

The house wasn't big. It had to be somewhere between the city and the Prancing Pony, because he was sure his direction had taken him closer to the city rather than North. As long as he chose not to ask more questions, Kili thought that maybe nobody would ask him questions either. He let the stew warm his belly and only when he was done, he scrunched up his nose. He smelled. The fever must have made him sweat like a pig. "Um," he asked Bofur, who always knew what to do when presented with clothing, "could I have a bath and clean my garments somewhere? I can pay."

"My washtub is yours," Gandalf gestured towards a small room to the rear of the house. "It will take some time to heat the water, so your patience is appreciated. I usually wash my clothes in the same water I wash myself. So, if you're not terribly choosy, we can kill two birds with one stone."

Bofur smiled and shrugged. "Sounds reasonable to me."

Kili looked at them with poorly hidden shock. "Is that what everyone does? Isn't that improper? You need different soaps, and what of oils to wash the hair? Your clothes would smell like almond..."

"It certainly beats the alternative," Bofur informed him. "And if you don't mind my saying so, you don't exactly smell like a bed of roses, laddie."

This earned a small smile from Bifur, who shrugged in agreement. 

"We can hang up your clothes to dry, but they might not be ready when we leave in the morning," Bombur told him. "You came to us with no belongings, Kili. Did you leave everything at the inn?" 

"The others must be sick with worry," Bofur pulled up the straps on his boots. "I'm going to ride ahead to try to find them. That is, unless you want us to take you back to the city."

"I have—" Clean clothes and a change of shoes in his luggage, Kili meant to say. He stilled when for the first time someone asked him what _he_ wanted. "You mean that?" he asked, almost not daring to believe it. "You mean you would take me back to the city if I asked you to?"

It was a stupid thing to cry over, and yet Kili's eyes filled with tears. "That's the first time someone cares about what I want. No, I don't want to go back to the city. I'd put both myself and all of you in danger. But if you would let me," he wiped his cheeks dry, "and it's not too much to ask, then could I not go in the company of Thorin for a while?"

"I myself couldn't go back into the city, laddie," Bofur told him. "None of us could. Not now. But none of us wants to hold you against your will. It was understood by all of us that you wanted to leave, too. Were we misinformed?"

"...Not for the same reasons." Kili looked at his hands. "I was supposed to be eloping, or whatever comes close to it. Then I lost him and, to top it off, it turns out to be some get-together plan by a man who wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place. Wonderful, finding out you have a family you wish you didn't have and have everyone talk about it as if it's some blessing."

"Did something happen to Fili?" Bombur wondered, eyes filled with fear. "Was he captured trying to leave the city? No one told us."

Kili snorted. "No, he's more than fine. He has a brother now." Fresh tears were making themselves known. "I don't want to see him, either."

Bofur sighed, relieved. "If he's not dead and hasn't been captured, why do you speak as if you've lost him?"

Bombur wisely turned back to the dough he was kneading.

"Because I have. He is dead to me," said Kili, and spoke no more. He rose to his feet, thanked Bombur again for the stew, and walked to the door. Without wanting to turn around, lest he broke down, he asked, "Where do I clean myself?"

Bofur looked at Gandalf, at a loss for words.

"My washroom's through here, Kili," Gandalf took hold of the youth's shoulders and led him to the small room, dominated by a round wooden washtub. Bifur was just carrying in a kettle full of warm water and pouring it in.

"It's not quite full yet, as you can see," Gandalf told him. "But if you'd like to get in and start soaking, I can amuse you by telling your fortune while you wait."

Kili shook his head. He felt defeated, with no more strength to come through the day. "Thank you, but I've had enough bad news for a while. I think I'd like to clean myself and then get some more sleep, if that's okay by you." He searched for a towel and found none. Maybe he was supposed to dry without a towel. It wouldn't surprise him today. Kili moved to unbutton his tunic. "Gandalf?" he asked. "I...I'm truly grateful for your help. You must not think badly of me for not being myself today. If you need recompense for the food and the care, I'll reimburse you. It's the least I can do."

"If you truly wish to repay me, I encourage you to take some more time and try to think more kindly about your new family. I know right now it feels as if you are the one giving up everything, but you cannot fathom the sacrifices they have made for you — the sacrifices all of us are willing to make to find a better life."

He opened a small basket near the door and pulled out a large piece of graying cloth, meant to serve as a towel. "It won't always be like this, Kili."

"I cannot be his brother. I _love_ him."

Kili clapped a hand over his mouth. He hadn't meant to share that with a stranger, even though Gandalf struck him as a wise fellow who would not tell another soul if Kili would ask him not to. "I had a good life. I sacrificed it for a man whom I thought was the one. I have been foolish and I made a poor judgment, Gandalf, and I am paying for it."

"Can you not love him _and_ be his brother?"

I am grateful for all you've done, but do not mock me." Kili's words rang with warning. "I do not love him brotherly."

"I am not mocking you, Kili," Gandalf said softly. "I do not jest about matters of the heart. Fili stopped here on his way to the city a few weeks ago. A perfectly lovely lad he is. Fiery, talented...clever," the old man tapped his temple with one finger. "And you have come to loathe him?"

Kili shrugged lifelessly. "You need not tell me how wonderful he is. I don't care about being his brother. I will never be his brother, I love him too much for that. But he wants me to be. This was never about the two of us and Ori, and he could have told me before I ripped my life into shreds. What am I to do? He broke my heart."

He lowered himself down into the water with care, his eyes averted, and whispered at last, "Will you leave me for a bit? I won't run, I just...need time."

\- - - - -

The day had given into the night when hooves sounded outside the door. Confused, Dis rose from her spinning wheel and walked to the front of the house. There were never visitors, and especially not those who could afford a horse. Especially not at this hour. She opened the door and braced herself for messengers from the crown, come to gather more taxes than was her due. They had been pestering her and the rest of the village lately, but never had they come to the doors specifically.

In their stead she found someone else, dressed splendidly and on a beautiful white mare—too expensive for someone his station. "Fili! What are you—oh, I'm glad to see you, but what are you doing here on a horse?" She looked around. Dis had no shelter for a horse, nor any food. "Take her to the tavern," she said. "I will make you a hot cup of soup when you return." 

All the while she felt relieved. When Thorin had told her Fili had found work as a painter at the court, she had been terrified, and continued to be despite Thorin's letters. He was away now, and with enough money never to return there. If Fili had not been on his horse, she would have smothered his forehead with kisses.

"Mother!" Fili got down from his mare in a manner that revealed he was still quite unaccustomed to riding. Once his feet were on the earth, he ran to Dis and embraced her. "I'm so happy to see you, Mum!

"The horse is mine. I've decided to call her Pearl. I can afford to put her up in the town stable. I suppose Uncle told you, I just did a portrait and was paid quite handsomely." He handed Dis a satchel that contained a roast of mutton, some potatoes and carrots. "For dinner," he explained. "I've missed you so much!" and he hugged her again.

"For—for a painting?" gasped Dis. That seemed excessive. Then again, Thorin had told her it had been for the Master and that his son—she refrained from considering him anything else in defense of herself—had bargained for a better price. She hadn't thought it would be able to buy Fili a horse. "Look at you," she spoke proudly. "A man grown. You look great." She took the food and kissed him on the temple. "This is most welcome, my son. Tell me, how have you been?"

"I could sit and talk to you for hours, Mother, about everything that happened to me in the city, but time is short, and there's so much you need to know. Let us sit," he gestured to the simple wooden table and encouraged Dis to join him. When she did, he reached for her hand.

"Mother, you need to know that Thorin, Frerin and Kili aren't far behind me. We managed to get Frerin free of the Master's artisan Colony. And Kili..." Fili was at a loss as to what to say. "He knows who he is now. He knows he is a Durin. I only told him last evening, and he's not taking it well."

His mother visibly pulled back into her shell. Her hands shook, her knees suddenly faint. "You brought him _here?_ Fili, I...You should have written me a letter. Frerin is safe at last? Thorin never told me that you knew. And you're—oh!"

Dis could say no more. Weak from the news, she lost her strength and fell into a chair. Tears appeared in her eyes. It would take her a moment to realize they were happy tears. "Oh Fee, boy, what did you do? You mean I will get to see him? Without him looking at me like I'm a commoner? The Master, what does he know? Are we in danger?"

"When I left the tavern to ride here, Thorin and Frerin were raising mugs together, surrounded by men loyal to them: Balin, Dwalin. They're expecting many more to join them as they travel. Their stay here will be short, however. As you can imagine, we won't want to wait around for the Master to discover what's happened."

He leaned forward, for he knew it was her lost son that Dis wanted to hear about most. "Kili is...well, he's upset. Although he wanted to run away to the south with me, he feels as if I tricked him by not telling him the truth until we were already away. He's angry at me, and hasn't accepted being part of our family. I would not expect him to run into your arms when you meet, for he truly loved the woman who raised him, very much."

Dis understood that—she had loved the Lady Fianna when their days hadn't yet been marked by the tragedy—but it was misery that painted her emotions when she considered that the boy she'd given birth to, whom she had had to pretend to be dead for twenty-one years, didn't want to acknowledge her. She tried to reason, "I suppose that takes time."

She saw her son and the pain that he bore, and she knew she was not alone. "I want to see him when they get here," she decided, nodding her head, "alone, if I can. When you leave, take me with you. I've lost my dear brother and son before. It would kill me to see them captured again. Where will we go?" It was a comfort that old friends were rallying back to their sides, but she cared little for anything but her torn family.

"We'll go south," Fili assured her. "All of us. As far south as the sea. You always spoke of the colonies there with such fondness. We shall join one, or form our own. So many want to come along. Men loyal to Thorin—and their families. It's rather overwhelming to me everything I have learned about our family over the past weeks. I wish you had told me all of it...before...."

Dis pulled him into an embrace. She closed her eyes and sighed. "I know, my son. I wish I could have. It is not that I didn't trust you with the knowledge, but would you have been able to promise me you wouldn't try to do something about it? They were beyond our grasp. Worse, they were both hostages. There's nothing you and I could have done. Not a day goes by that I don't regret running when I had the chance." She smiled in her sadness. "But it'll be a thing of the past at last. We will make it work, as long as we're together."

"I hope so," Fili sighed, and Dis could not help but notice how he trembled in her arms. He would never forget the look of fear and distrust on Kili's face when he ordered him to leave him alone. "I should tend to Pearl," he told her, rising. "And then, perhaps a small nap. I've been riding all night, and haven't slept well for many a day."

Dis placed another kiss on Fili's forehead. "Go then. I will make sure your bed is ready when you return. The others will come soon, won't they? I'll keep them out of your room if you want me to, get you some rest. You look pale." 

She stepped back and watched Fili as he left. When he was fully out of sight, her hand moved to her lips and she suppressed a sob. Kili was returning to her. Her lost son, and her brother too. Never had she dared hope she would see them again in her life. But here they were.

She wouldn't let them go, this time.


	17. I Am Unfit to Harbor Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili tells his mother how he feels about Kili. The Master and his guards travel to the Blue Mountains. A confrontation ensues.

Kili's reunion with Ori and his newfound uncles was stilted at best. While Gandalf did the talking and Bofur and Bombur were bursting with enthusiasm, Kili lingered in the background and kept his eyes trained on the floor until introductions were over with and he could nod once, accepting that he was back, and shuffle to his room.

Ori, who had never spent more than a night's sleep away from Kili, had felt a sense of helplessness in Kili's absence. "I was worried sick about you," he told Kili, following him into his room and hugging him, "and it turns out I had good reason to be." He smoothed Kili's tousled hair away from a brow that was still a bit too warm. "I know you're troubled, Kili, but please don't run away from me again. If you plan to go, I will follow you. It is _you_ I serve. I always will."

He tried to hide his tear-filled eyes from Kili, but failed when the tears spilled over. "I'm sorry," he sniffled. "I can't bear to lose you. You're my best friend."

That made Kili feel like the worst friend. Awkwardly Kili tangled his fingers in the fabric of Ori's tunic. "But...you were going to be with your family. You wanted to be there with them." He breathed out, closed his eyes. "Nobody was giving me any choice. They kept talking like I belonged with them, that it was the only place where I was supposed to be. Everyone. I needed to get away, but then I got into the woods and two kids found me, and their father too started, and I just...panicked. I'm sorry. You're my best friend, Ori."

"I'm here with you, Kili. I'm here for you," Ori assured him. "Whatever I can do to help you through this, just ask." His eyes searched Kili's wan face and his hands weren't quite ready to release him. "You look dreadful," he surmised, breaking the tension. "Let me fix your hair for you."

Kili nodded and sat down for him. His hands fumbled with the hem of his own clothing. Freshly cleaned though it was, it didn't smell as fresh as it would have back at the Manor. No, the keep was no longer his home, and he needed to get used to that. Ori's hands smoothing down his hair were a blissful distraction.

Somehow, seeing Fili would make it better. It would also make it a lot worse.

"Did anything happen when I was away?"

"Dr. Oin arrived," Ori told him. "He brought with him quite a supply of herbs and medicines. He hopes to train me to assist him. I think I might enjoy that—harvesting herbs and the like." Ori pulled the front of Kili's hair back into a thin braid down the back of his hair. "It's more efficient for travel," he explained. "We have not heard back from Fili. He left to see his mother. "I suppose we shall meet up with him there. He had weapons with him. We must hope no harm befell him on the road."

"It can't," Kili said as if it were that simple, "we have unfinished business." He reached a hand back to touch the braid. It was simple; unobtrusive. "There's a bigger group forming than we thought. Medicine sounds like it could be very useful. I expected you to go for painting when given the choice." He sighed. "We shouldn't stay here long. We are expected at the House of Greenleaf tonight, and they will raise the alarm if we don't show up."

Kili's suddenly business-like manner caught his friend by surprise. ''Yes, well...painting for fun. Medicine to be of use. One needs to be of use. I can't exactly take care of you forever, now can I?" Ori smiled and patted Kili's shoulder affectionately, if not a bit awkwardly. "Besides, someone else is bucking for that job."

Kili snorted. "Everyone is, if I understand it for what it is. Gods, apparently because I'm now the youngest son in an old line makes everyone act like a mother hen around me. That's exactly the opposite of what I need. I'd much rather have it be you. They don't even know me; they're only trying to please Thorin. Don't tell me it's not true."

"It was Fili I was referring to," Ori told him, frowning, "and you know that. These men are moved that you've come, Kili. They will not coddle you, but they will rally around you. And they will come to admire you, in time, as I have. But not if you keep acting so petulantly."

"Fili wants to take care of me as a brother. That's not what I want. And everyone else needs to learn to give me space." Kili squeezed Ori's hand. "I was overwhelmed. They were smothering me, yet I never wanted to be their family. That means I'd have to be Fili's brother." His voice shook. "I love him too much for him to be my brother and convince everyone that my heart never belonged to him." Kili felt fragile. With everything ripped from him, he had expected to be a stronger person. "Please don't agree with them for thinking me foolish."

"Did he tell you that? That he no longer wants you?" Ori asked him. "Because he is in agony, Kili. Agony because of feelings he thinks are perverse."

"They're not perverse!" Kili struggled for words. "I've been looking all of my life for love, knowing that when I found it, I wouldn't be able to hold onto it. I love him, Ori, and it's the most beautiful and pure of emotions I can remember. He said he wants me to be his brother, but I can't stop thinking about him in other ways. I don't care if we are kin. We didn't grow up together—and besides, we're both men. Surely the taboo is meant to prevent the miscreants of reproduction. I may see Thorin and Frerin as uncles, and maybe time will let me believe in the woman who gave birth to me too, but if I consider him brother, I cannot feel for him the way I do now."

Thorin and Frerin, who had been shamelessly listening outside the thin, wooden door, exchanged a knowing glance. 

"So, there it is, then," Frerin whispered to his brother. "I suspected as much by the look in Fili's eyes when he spoke of Kili."

Thorin nodded, encouraging Frerin to follow him away from the door and into the inn room they had shared the night before. "I tried to discourage it, but Fili didn't know the truth, and by then, it was already too late. The damage had been done."

"We cannot fault them, beloved," Frerin smiled up at him, squeezing Thorin’s hip.

"Nor will we," Thorin shut the door behind them and eased his brother down onto the tossed sheets. "But we can support them."

"How can we not?" Frerin kissed him. 

"How can we not?" Thorin echoed the sentiment, drawing Frerin into his arms.

A knock sounded at their door that drew the pair quickly apart.

"Thorin?" Balin's voice was clear as bell. "We must depart. The Master's lackey, Alfrid, has been spotted nearby. _They know._ And if they don't, they will know soon enough."

"Tell the lads, Balin," Thorin instructed, squeezing Frerin's hand in reassurance.

Nobody needed to tell Kili and Ori, who had both tensed up at the knock as if it had been on their own door and had heard Balin's words clearly. Kili hurried to the door and tossed it open. He quickly rubbed his eyes. "Alfrid? Where? That sneaky—oh, let me get my hands on him!"

Ori was more literate. "Alfrid is the Master's steward. He is cunning and vindictive, but he isn't strong or fast," he explained. "If you know where he is, we could bind him and delay them. He will see us if all of us leave together, but we have to leave at once."

"He can't be here yet." Kili was afraid now. "If he is, he must know everything. He will know we are headed for the Blue Mountains and if he loses us here, he will follow us there."

"You're right, Kili," Ori agreed. "He is a sneaky, conniving little worm. Oh, I hope he didn't overhear any of our conversations about leaving!"

"We don't know where he is now," Balin added quickly, "just that he has been spotted. People of his station do struggle with being inconspicuous."

"We should be going," Thorin ascertained. "North to pick up Dis, Fili and your brothers, Ori. And anyone else who cares to travel with us. I'm hoping Fili has softened the blow with Dis."

\- - - - - 

Fili slept quite fitfully, Dis noticed, as if in constant fear of being caught. After a few hours of tossing and turning with little productive sleep in between, he rose around noon. "I should go 'round the village," he told his mother almost at once. "I need to see Ori's brothers and start spreading the word of our impending trip south. Thorin feels there may be others who want to come with us."

Dis followed after him. "So soon? You’ve barely slept, and you haven't eaten. Come, sit with your mother, and I will help you when you are done." She smiled at him in what she hoped was an encouraging way, pulling him into a seat. "You plan on taking others with you? Ori's brothers, you say? The little boy? I thought you had forgotten about him." Fondly she reminisced, "You always played so abundantly. I always felt like he was a bit like a little brother, the way Kili—well, you know."

"That little boy wound up as Kili's steward," Fili told her, attempting to pull his tousled hair back into a ponytail. "We reconnected over the past month or so. He has come along, of course. Many who served under The Master have."

He slipped into one of the chairs at the table and gratefully accepted the mug of hot tea his mother stuck under his nose.

"It's your stories that inspired all this, Mum," Fili told her. "It was always my dream to wind up in one of those artist colonies you told me about as a child. And now here we are, off to form our own."

It was all very sudden. Perhaps, Dis thought, she should inform her neighbor to take over. It would be challenging to bring along the sheep like it were a mass exodus; the stock would severely slow them down. "I don't mind, as long as it's with you, and Thorin and Frerin, and Kili." She wrapped her hands around her own mug. "You know, I picked his name. Before I was the Lady's midwife, we were both pregnant women. I shared his name with her, if it were a boy. She must have given him the name out of loyalty. She loathed her husband's decision, but she loved _him_."

Fili reached for Dis' hand. "Mother," he told her. " _I_ love him."

She looked at him for a long time. Then she nervously laughed, "Yes, so do I."

"Mother," Fili blushed and pushed his mug away, clearly flustered, "before I knew he was my brother, I was _in_ love with him. Do you understand what I mean? We have been...intimate."

Dis felt like her heart had stopped. Not in her worst nightmares—and oh had there been many—had she thought...feared...But of course. Fili worried so strongly for his brother, and he had said Kili had been angry with him. Before she could say anything, the lump in her throat prevented her words, and soon she broke down in tears. "I am so sorry! I thought, if we didn't tell you, then things would, would—"

"Thorin tried to tell me, in his own way," Fili admitted, eyes downcast. "He warned me to remember my station. To fear him. And I tried. I _did_. But then I got to know him." He stood, suddenly chilled, to add another log to the fire. "And now, even though I know the truth, my heart doesn't want to believe it."

"And Kili?" Dis asked with dread. To hear these words from her son was the worst of misfortunes. People would look at them and talk. Neither of them deserved the prejudice that people would bestow upon them. Worst was when she considered the boy she had not seen grow up with the boy that she did raise by her hand, and how they could have been, running around and playing, with Fili harboring a protective streak for Kili, because such was her elder son's nature, and Kili either loving it or wanting nothing to do with it. But with the innocence of a child.

"Kili came away with us because he wanted to get away from his father. The Master wanted him to marry and bear a child," Fili said bitterly, "but Kili wanted to be with me. He loves me. He _loved_ me," he corrected, "until I told him the truth. Now, he thinks it was all a trick."

Fili got up again, as if he could not rest, and poured another cup of the strong tea. "If he is cruel to you, Mother, it's because he's angry with me—with Thorin, and with Frerin. He told me some time ago how badly he wanted to meet you."

She sat down next to him and pulled him against her shoulder. "Have you talked about it properly? It must have been hard for him, hearing that you're related. You've given him the time to get used to it?" She lowered her eyes. "What is he like? Normally, I mean. I have never wanted Thorin to tell me, in fear that I would want to see him."

"He's handsome," Fili smiled, ruefully, "and oh, does he know it! A bit taller than me. He very strongly resembles Frerin, except his eyes are deep brown. He carries himself with such surety, and has a very captivating smile, and his voice is..." Fili stopped talking when he saw how his mother was looking at him. He chuckled nervously and continued.

"I didn't like him when we met," Fili confessed. "I didn't like the way he spoke to me—or to anyone, for that matter. But when we got behind closed doors and he wasn't being watched by the Master, he became...different. Kind, loving. Fun."

Fili's mother smiled wistfully. "A son after his father. Your father was always mindful of appearances, but he was also joyous at heart. I—oh, I don't know what I should tell you, Fee. I haven't raised him and he probably won't call me mother at first, if at all. I never expected him to return to me. I am unfit to harbor dreams for his future and hold them against him, or against you. I am lucky enough that he comes back. When he comes here, will you talk to him?"

"If he will speak to me," Fili nodded. "He bade me— _ordered_ me—to leave him alone. I...I can't—" 

Dis could tell he was close to tears.

"I can show him to you!" Fili remembered suddenly, and leapt to his feet, pulling his sketchbook from his satchel. He turned to the last few pages, where there were various drawings of Kili—in the garden with a rabbit, standing in a patch of sunlight in a state room, eating with Ori.

"This is Kili," he said softly, fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the paper lovingly.

Dis sat entranced. Her lost son looked just like her brothers, all except for the eyes, just as Fili inherited his father's looks in all but his eyes. They were sun and moon, but decidedly brothers. "He is perfect," she smiled. "I expected him to have your hair. Your build. He looks so different."

Tears were in her eyes too. Dis returned the sketches to Fili. "We have work to do," she said. "And he will need a place to be alone when he gets here. Thorin's room, you think?" Dis was determined. She would do her best to be ready for when they arrived, as well as ready to leave at short notice. Nobody was going to take Kili away from her again.

"Yes, and he'll want Ori with him," Fili asserted. "Ori helps keep him grounded."

He reached for her hand again, squeezing it like a lifeline. "He's going to love you, Mum. Just wait and see."

\- - - - - 

"The Young Master's carriage was seen passing through the settlement near the Prancing Pony," Alfrid told the Master as he buckled his shoes. "After that, it seems to have vanished from sight. "I circled the inn itself on horseback, but the carriage was nowhere to be seen. He has certainly traveled onward, Master. Perhaps our concerns of treason on his part are not valid."

"Not treason? How is it not treason?! If they moved onward, they have taken Kili further away from us. That is unacceptable, do you hear me?"

In the Great Library, servants shied away as the Master paced up and down the main aisle. Above him, the chandelier cast long menacing shadows behind him. He was convinced of the Durin scum having kidnapped his son and refused to allow Alfrid's more radical insinuations; that Kili had staged this, himself. "I want every road blocked, the Blue Mountains searched for that witch of a mother, and if they have him, I want you to hang all of them. But you are not to harm my son, do you understand?"

Guards and servants alike rushed to do his bidding. 

Alfrid, meanwhile, leaned in to speak to The Master conspiratorially. "Master," he whispered. "It might send a stronger message if you yourself were to ride out with the guards to the Blue Mountains. Only recently our scouts forged a more expedient riding path up the mountains. On horseback, we could be there in eight hours or less. The people need to see you deal with this threat first hand, to remind them who's in charge."

The Master rubbed his mustache. "Yes. Yes, it would. He is my heir, after all. Nobody messes with my successor without expecting to get to deal with me." He took Alfrid by the shoulders and lowered his overbearing weight to look at the little serpent from the same level. "See it done. Have a horse ready for me, and pack food for the journey. We will go there at once. Cancel my appointment with Mr. Elrond, if you please. There are more important things at hand."

He strode back through the library and scowled at all who had come to gather to watch them. "What are you looking at? I will get my heir back from these scoundrels who have dared take him! Be gone, I say, _be gone!_ "

\- - - - - 

Dis put the meat and vegetables over the fire to slowly roast. After that, she and Fili made the rounds of the sixteen cottages in their small village. They found only one family unwilling to make the journey south—an elderly couple who physically felt it would be too taxing. Quickly a neighbor agreed they could ride in his wagon, if they packed lightly.

A baker, an herbalist, a tinker, midwives, children: they were truly taking a small colony with them. They returned to Dis' cottage exhausted, yet pleased with their efforts.

Fili lay down for an attempt at yet another nap. This time sleep came with surprising ease, but an hour later, he was awakened by the vibrations of thundering hooves. Still fully clothed, he got up from bed and rushed to the cottage doorway.

"Is it my brothers?" Dis asked, straightening her frock. "Is it Kili?"

When Fili turned to her, his face had lost all color. "No," he told her. "It isn't."

A guard, armed to the teeth, knocked on the door. There would be no escape; the other guards in the Master's entourage had surrounded the cottage. "Open up, in the name of the Master!" he announced.

The Master got off his horse, Alfrid by his side at once. He raised his chin and waited. Slowly, neighbors were coming to watch. Let them watch, he thought proudly. Let them see the might of his reign.

Trembling, Fili took both of Dis' hands in his own. "Mum, you know nothing. I have just now returned from the city, alone. All is as it should be," he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "I love you."

The walk to the door was the longest of Fili's life, but he opened it, lest the guard beat it down.

"What brings you here from the city?" he asked the burly man, trying vainly to hide his fear. "We were just sitting down to dinner."

The man stamped inside, shoved him when he got in the way, and cleared a path for several of the other guards. They fanned out in the small house that wasn't built for so many, checking every crevice where someone could be hidden. They found nothing.

"And?" The Master stood in the doorway? "Anything?"

"Nothing, Sir," said the guard who had trespassed before the others.

"Aye, no sign of him," said another. "No extra bowl, no bed recently slept on, nothing. Are you certain we should be looking here, my lord?"

If looks could kill, Fili would be a smoldering pile of ashes.

Both Dis and Fili were struggling to control their tempers. Fili slid his arm around his mother's waist to help ground them. 

"I left the city as I said I would, Master, and brought some of my payment to my mother," Fili told him. "I had planned to help her with the flock for a few days, then return for your next commission. Who is it that you seek?"

"Did you stop at the Prancing Pony?" the Master countered with a question of his own.

"I did," Fili told him. "The journey here is lengthy and the road is not a safe place to spend the night. I'm sure the innkeeper will corroborate what I have told you. I paid him with your silver."

The Master scoffed. That was all he needed. His son had been sighted near the Prancing Pony, and this painter had stayed there. There was no other conclusion than that the man was involved. "Seize him," he ordered. "And her."

"No!" Fili protested. It was too much to bear seeing his beloved mother grabbed by her upper arms by The Master's men. "You let her go! Haven't you caused my mother enough pain in her lifetime?"

The guard moved to slap him for his insolence, but the Master raised a hand. "What did you say?" he asked. There was a threat there, a challenge that he expected Fili to double back on. "Are you aware of the pain she has caused _me_? My wife?"

"What I _know_ ," Fili rose to his full height, anger finally spilling over, "is that your baby died in childbirth and you blamed my mother, despite her efforts to save the baby—heroic efforts that put the baby in her own belly at risk. You then forced her to give up her own newborn and took him as your own. You killed her husband and abducted her brother, imprisoning him for twenty-one years to hide your shameful secret."

Fili noticed the crowd of villagers gathered to watch. While weapons were required to be blunted by law, pitchforks, shovels and scythes were readily at hand, and each man carried at least one of these. Many of the women did, too.

"Tell us again how it was _your_ wife who suffered?" Fili faced down The Master. 

"It was by her fault!" The Master, who had hardly noticed the throng of people that outnumbered his own guards, swatted away Alfrid when he tugged on his arm to let him know of the increasingly dangerous situation they were getting themselves in. "If she had done what she was asked to do, my son would be alive! My. Rightful. Heir! how dare you make it sound like she was the one wronged? If she wouldn't have let him die, then none of this would have happened! Do not tell me what I can or can't do."

"You knew Dis for years! Trusted her to be your midwife. Trusted the lives of your wife and child to her! She and the Mistress Fianna were best friends," Fili reminded him. "Your wife died during her second attempt at having a baby, did she not? As did the baby. Was that somehow my mother's fault as well? I propose," pointed an accusing finger in the Master's face, "that you simply wanted to put my family in its place, and that horrible situation gave you the chance to do so."

"Master..." Alfrid tried to warn his liege again. The Master however was fuming. He made ready to lash out, not at Dis, but at Fili—the source of his frustration.

A man behind him cleared his throat. "Leave the lad alone."

"Is it true?" asked a woman. "Is the Young Master not of the womb of the Lady Fianna?"

For the first time Dis spoke up. "He is not." She kept her eyes trained at the Master's shoes, both to not make things worse but also to know at once when he made to flee. "Twenty-one years ago, the Young Master was stolen from my birthing bed, raised to be a son of a man who wasn't his father. To betray the secret was to sentence my brother to death. It is time the people knew, Master. My sentence will not be any less or worse because I told them."

\- - - - - 

Thorin had held up his small caravan of travelers half a mile from his sister's village. "We walk from here," he told them. "If you have any valuables, do not leave them in the carriage."

"We can come back for the horses and our clothing when we determine the village is safe," Dwalin told them. "If you have a weapon, bring it."

Ori opened Kili's trunk and handed him his bow and quiver without a word.

"Come, now," Thorin urged them. Frerin fell in line behind him. He hadn't used a weapon more lethal than a pair of metal tongs in years.

When the company came over the rise that afforded them a view of the village, Thorin's concerns became reality. "That is the Master's crest, is it not?" he asked Kili. "I fear he has reached my sister and Fili before we did."

\- - - - - 

Fili stepped in front of Dis to shield her from the Master's wrath. "We're all sorry you lost your son, Master. We feel your pain. We do. Who here has also lost a child?" he asked of the villagers. At least seven couples raised their hands.

"We live in poverty," he told the Master, "and give birth in dubious conditions. Many babies who are born safely, die in early childhood because of disease of lack of food. All of that could be prevented if you only took the time to care for all your people, instead of hoarding wealth and kowtowing to the wealthiest of citizens while ignoring and punishing those below your station."

"I need no lecture on how I rule my lands," the Master stood reluctant at a distance. He wished he could walk up to the painter and punish him for his words—to make sure his mother was locked away before the end of the night—yet they were outnumbered, and any actions that would threaten Fili would mostly bring about an attack on himself. He had not enough defense. _Bring a small group_ , Alfrid had insisted. _Show them you can rule them without showing up with an army._

So much for his safety.

"Have you seen him?" he asked instead. "If he is not with you, then you must know where he is at least. He left on his journey and we haven't been able to find him since."

"He knows the truth now," Fili told the Master. "I doubt you will see him again until he is ready to face you." Then, out of his own concern for Kili, Fili told him. "He is safe. He is with his _family._ "

A muscle in Alfrid's face twitched and his hand moved slowly towards the dagger on his belt.

"I raised him," the Master tried to get in weakly. These men thought they could just waltz in and forget that all of Kili's childhood and his adolescence, the Master had been his father and seen Kili as his son. Did it not mean anything that his heir was perhaps not of his own blood, but felt like kin nonetheless?

Behind him, a cloaked figure slipped through the crowd and made it to Alfrid. He pressed a cold blade against his throat, whispered, "Don't."

The Master didn't see. "So he is not of my blood. So what? I raised him, I treated him as my son. He _is_ my son."

"You are wrong," another cloaked figure stepped forward. He pushed his hood off, and the crowd gasped as they saw the man underneath. Kili was struggling to keep his cool. It was hard, because the Master was correct. Though not by blood, the man still felt like a father to him. He held his chin high. "You lied to me. Leave these people alone. If it's me you want, you can talk to me here, but I won't return with you."

Relief surged through Fili so strongly he felt as if his knees might give out. He reached for his mother and pulled her towards him. "It's going to be all right," he whispered into her hair. He wasn't sure if he was telling her or himself.

"I should have told you the truth, Kili," the Master raised his empty hands in supplication. "I didn't want to lose you. My son. You were all I had in the world. The duchy would have been yours."

"You could have told me. You know I don't like politics, but I might have made an effort for you. You were always my father, by bloodline or not." Kili looked weary, his strength failing him. "You want to know why I left, father? Not because of all of this. Actually," he laughed humorlessly, "all of this came later. I just didn't want to marry. I'm an adult now, after all. I know what would be expected of me. It wasn't because my heritage. But if you hurt any of these people, I will never forgive you." Alfrid, hand stayed by Ori's dagger at his throat, cut his eyes about the crowd, seeking for an escape route.

"I didn't come here to harm anyone," the Master told him—clearly a lie, if the heavily armed guards were any indication. "I came looking for you, Kili. I am not proud of everything I have done, but every choice I've made has been to secure the future of the duchy. I love you, son."

Kili was caving. He was angry at a lot of people, and the Master always had a way with words. "I mean it," he tried to steel himself, "you will not harm these people. Promise me that. And you will apologize to the woman who birthed me for what you took from her."

Dis' hand closed on Fili's tightly. It was cold.

"Your people—your birth family—will not suffer," the Master promised. He turned to Dis. "Good lady, you have been greatly aggrieved by me. I cannot return all you have lost, but I can again compensate you. Your second son stands before you, healthy and whole. I will give you and your family a mountain of gold to repay you for the privilege of allowing me to raise him. Gold means nothing to me now, with no one to pass it on to."

Kili snorted despite himself. "Oh, old man, so now you're noble. Feed the people if you want to be generous. I will not come back with you and be locked in a gilded cage because I dared try escape once. I know you as I know your pride. You would make it so I'd never set foot outside the house again." 

He looked at Dis. How Kili wished the circumstances were different. She deserved more than to meet him like this. There had to be a solution, because he didn't want to decide on staying anywhere, but he also didn't want to exclude anything. The moment he would forgive the Master, he would forget about his promises. Such was the nature of the political. They were at a status quo that would not last.

"I would be your heir," he said finally, "if you allow our families to be legally bonded. You decided to steal an infant from friends to have an heir that was not of your blood, so surely you must not see anything wrong with sharing some of your might to repay them."

"Kili," Fili finally spoke up, his tone gentle, warning, "please, don't. It's not supposed to happen this way."

"I agree," Frerin stepped forward, pulling his dark green cloak away from his face. "I'm content to take the Master's money and move on."

"Leaving solves nothing if the people of the city continue to suffer," Fili voiced his concern. "The people want to thrive, and you will find yourself amazed at what they—and you—will accomplish if they are allowed to. When you return to the city, an Aid Society must be formed. Those in need will receive clothing, shelter, medical care. Healthy people who are happy in their chosen trade will stimulate your economy."

He realized he had spoken passionately when everyone grew silent and was watching him. He shrugged. "It's something I thought about while in the city," he explained shyly. "Ways to help the poor. Ways to bring the city back to its former glory."

He turned to Kili, "I don't want you to go back, Kili. Please." 

But Kili looked at him helplessly. "He raised me, Fili. I owe as much to him as I do to you. Were it fully my choice, I would decide on a house in the middle and divide my time between everyone, given that my father truly repents and would accept me into the city without further expectations but my company. Honestly, I don't know what I want. Everything has gone sideways. I can blame him for what he did, because there's no excuse for what he did, but he has not been a bad father to me."

"Kili, he has _lied_ to you since you were old enough to understand words," Fili tried to convince him. "He kidnapped you, then locked you away in a comfortable, golden cage. Please, don't go back with him. He _will_ find a way to hurt you. Ori certainly won't let you go alone, and I fear for his safety if he accompanies you."

Kili turned to Ori, whose mouth was set in a grim line. "My first duty is to you, Kili, no matter what you decide."

At this, Ori's older brothers raised their voices and weapons in protest.

"You don't owe him anything," Thorin said gently. "I know it feels as if you do, for all he has given you. But you can love him from a safe distance if you choose it."

"All this time you have been a hostage, Kili," Frerin told him. " _We_ have been hostages. I cannot let you return to that."

Fili, finally at a loss for words, could only implore with his eyes. _I cannot live without you, Kili._

"Yes, yes, I know," Kili nearly snapped at Frerin. He was again between a rock and a hard place. While he wished he could be with Fili, he was sympathetic to The Master’s plight too. And Fili probably only wanted him as a brother, anyway. Kili had given up everything for love only to have it thrown in his face. So the Master had done terrible things to the family he was born in; he had never raised a hand against Kili, nor ignored him or been terrible to him because of his bloodline.

His body wasn't yet fit enough to deal with the weight of the decision. Kili tried to hold himself steady and strong, but soon his knees were shaking and he stumbled. "Get away," Kili hissed to everyone who moved to help him. He got back to his feet, pale now. "I wish you could live in peace and accept each other. You're making me choose one and exclude the other."

"You're my heir..." the Master tried. "What will become of the lands if I die without a successor?"

Kili shrugged weakly. "So the people hold an election."

"You can't mean that."

"I am not your son by blood, and the people know it now."

"Kili..." Fili’s voice echoed at the edge of Kili’s consciousness.

But Kili finally collapsed.


	18. Spokes on a Wagon Wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili adjusts to life in the Blue Mountains and the family prepares for a trip south. Fili shows Kili a very special place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, friends. Enjoy this chapter.

When Kili awoke, it was to the sensation of Ori placing a cool cloth over his forehead.

"There you are," Ori smiled in relief when Kili's eyes stayed open and focused on his own. "We were worried. You've caught pneumonia, Kili. You've been asleep well over twenty four hours."

Kili's stomach gave a gurgle and he turned his head to the left to find that Fili lay next to him, asleep.

"He was worried about you," Ori explained, "and got himself a bit frantic. Dis laced his tea with Valerian root and he relaxed pretty quickly after that." He heard Kili's stomach growl. "Do you feel like some toast and tea?"

Kili's eyes needed to refocus when he got up too fast and vertigo nearly felled him again. Fili looked so peaceful that he didn't want to accidentally wake him up. He didn't speak until he was out of the room. "Where is the Master?" he whispered with a sore throat. "Is everyone safe? What happened when I was asleep?"

His stomach growled again. Kili winced when he noticed the shapeless cotton that had been functioning as his night clothes. "Toast and drink first. Tell me, Ori, should I be worried?"

"The Master left when he realized he was outnumbered and we weren't afraid," Ori told him, "but he was none too happy about it. And, to be fair, he seemed very concerned about you. We haven't allowed him to come near you. He did promise not to harm anyone, but we weren't quite ready to trust him. They left." He poured Kili a mug of tea from the kettle and pushed it towards him. "It would take about twenty-four hours for him to ride back, amass a larger army, and return—if he wanted to. That you probably already know."

Dis came into the kitchen at that moment, a basket of wool in her arms. "You're awake," was all she said, smiling cautiously and sitting down across from her son.

Kili became visibly more reserved in her company. "I slept for a day," he spoke his concern to Ori, "you're saying he could be here at any moment. I don't think he will come, he will need to lick his wounds, but can we have horses ready, just in case?"

It was a silent dismissal—or rather the unvoiced request to have some time alone. As Ori left, Kili reached for the toast and avoided the chance to meet eyes with Dis. "...I owe you several apologies, don't I?"

"You don't even know me," Dis straightened her posture slightly. Kili saw a lot of Fili in the subtle gesture. "How could you have wronged me?" She pushed the sugar bowl in his direction.

A shrug. "Several ways, I suppose." A sweet-tooth by heart, he used a good spoonful of sugar before realizing that sugar probably didn't come cheap in these parts and guiltily pushing half of it back into the bowl. "Too many to list, probably." Kili smiled apologetically. "You look calm for the chance that he could be back here any minute. Are the others fine?"

"Use all the sugar you like, Kili," Dis said his name aloud for the first time. "It'll be one less thing for us to carry when we leave."

She rose and flipped over the long tongs holding two slices of bread toasting over the fire. "I've just been given back my brother, and the baby I lost and thought I'd never see again," she told him. "I suppose I am suffering from a bit of complacency. That, and I have known the Master a long, long time. He was frightened by what happened here. I cannot see him returning any time soon. Nonetheless we shall be leaving. Will you join us?"

Kili shrugged again, helplessly. "I don't know. I want to. Join you, that is. It's just," and he looked over at the door to the room in which Fili slept, "I'm not sure if it's a good idea yet. Please don't take it as offensive, it isn't meant that way, but I feel like I am in between families right now." He didn't take much sugar despite the offer and kept his eyes cast down. Kili felt so guilty for a lot of things. "I don't know where I'm supposed to be. Everyone tells me this or that, because they love to tell me things that I really need to figure out for myself. Well. This is probably difficult for you. I will shut my mouth."

"People aren't telling you things because they love to hear themselves talk," Dis plucked the toast from the forks and adeptly spread both thickly with blackberry jam, giving them over to Kili. "They tell you things because they love _you_. What is it that you would have, in a perfect world?" she wondered. "If you could magically make it so?"

The toast was warm and crunchy, and for that alone it was exactly what Kili needed. He thought part of what she had said wasn't true—it was because they loved Thorin and believed in his cause, whatever that may be—but he had not the heart to tell her so. "Ori and Fili. That's all I need. There are a lot of things I would wish for, but they're things of the past, and wishing to have been able to change the past would only make the present harder, wouldn't it? Just Ori and Fili. We were going South, away from the Master."

She nodded. "I understand. We can certainly try to limit your contact with the rest of us, but you must also allow Ori some time with his family. He hasn't seen his mother since he was a lad of ten. She came by for a bit last evening while you were sleeping, but they didn't get nearly as much time together as I'm sure either of them would have liked. I don't think you'll have any trouble keeping Fili at your side," she added. "He has already told me exactly how he feels about you."

With his mouth around toast, Kili didn't know what to do. His insides were coiling into a painful twist. "So how does feel about me?" He chewed on his lip. This wasn't a question to ask the woman who had given birth to him—oh, he might as well call her mother, if only to himself. He would just have two mothers and two fathers. "It's strange, being technically his brother," he opened up a little. "You're a little strange too. I look like you and I carry the name you picked for me, but I never knew about you until a few days so."

"You don't really need me to tell you how he feels, do you?" Dis asked, lacing her fingers together around her mug. "The question is, are you going to let it destroy the two of you, or are you going to let it strengthen you? As for me," she chose her words carefully, "we have time to get to know one another. I hope, someday, you can at least think of me as a friend."

It was clear she wanted to say more but was battling with her emotions.

"You mean there's a choice?" Kili toyed with the crumbs on the table. He flinched when he thought he heard movement in the room to his left, but it was just the wind. "Fili thinks the world of you. When I showed interest in his sketches, he showed me one of you. It was his best piece, and it describes you well. You have to have been strengthened by all you've gone through."

Not knowing what else to say, Kili awkwardly looked outside the window and tried to come up with a safe subject. When it wouldn't come, he just ate and occasionally glanced at her.

"You say I'm stronger for my pain," Dis' blue eyes finally spilled over the tears she'd been holding back. "If that's the case, Kili, I'd rather be a weak woman instead, and have my family whole. There is nothing worse than to live in fear." She pushed away from the table and stood, poised for flight. She hadn't taken a step when Frerin entered through the front door, giving them both a smile.

"Sister?" he immediately voiced his concerned. "Wha—has something happened?" he asked Kili. "Is it Fili?"

Kili hadn't meant for Dis to break down. Thoroughly unprepared for what to do, he looked up at Frerin wide-eyed. Quickly and several times, he shook his head and reached for her hand. He didn't know what to do. "Fili's asleep," he pleaded with Frerin to leave. "I'm sorry, I was callous without intending to be. Could you please...?"

Frerin turned to Dis, who nodded imperceptibly, signaling that all was well. She was shaking.

"Both of you here simultaneously," she explained, "it's...almost more than I can bear."

Understanding, Frerin leaned over and kissed her temple, then left the room soundlessly.

"I'm sorry," Dis apologized to Kili after Frerin had gone. "Perhaps I'm not the woman Fili described to you, nor what you expected."

"I didn't expect a lot, to be honest. I mean, I didn't know you for a long time." Kili hoped that his smile was somewhat comforting, though at court people never shared their feelings so openly, and as such he had no idea whether he was doing a good job. He felt vulnerable. "You were only Fili's mother then, but I thought you looked strong. Like a lioness. I don't really want a lioness as a mother though. Mother—I mean Fianna—she was more of a gazelle. She was kind and gracious, mature and stern at some days but playful at others."

It probably wouldn't do to talk to Dis about the woman who had raised him. Kili paused, thinking of what he really wanted to say. He sighed, threw a hopeful smile. "You should just be you. We will both need to get used to each other, won't we? I prefer to get used to the real you. There have been enough charades in my life as of late."

He hoped that what he said would dry the tears. Tentatively he leaned forward and stretched out his hand.

"I don't mind so much that you love Fianna," Dis took his hand with a sad sigh. "After all, she was my best friend. _I_ loved her. Until...well, I suppose I never stopped. I always took comfort in knowing that she was a good person and she would take care of you."

Kili smiled at several memories. "She did." Their communication was still stilted, and he didn't want to push it too soon. Kili wasn't ready to push that line yet. So he did the opposite. "Tell me about Fili, when he was a kid."

"He was a bit of a sprite," she smiled, "as you can well envision. He had a very active imagination and he loved the outdoors. He had a soft heart for hurt animals and a strong sense of justice. Little has changed, except that his hair used to be nearly white when he was very young. He was a very kindly child. I suppose it was his nature that kept us from telling him the truth."

"He still has a very strong sense of justice." Kili remembered the look of distaste on seeing that much wealth, the first time he came into Kili's home. "I thought he had that from his uncle at the time. Thorin knew, I suppose. He wasn't very fond of me, probably for good reasons, but I assumed it was because I had money while the city lived in poverty." He tried a second piece of toast, still hungry, and washed it down with a gulp of tea. "He's an excellent painter. I believe I kept pushing him into difficult positions by asking about unconventional ideas for the portrait."

He blinked then. "You know, I don't even know the name of the Master. What was your husband called? Does Fili look like him? None of you have brown eyes like I do, and neither does anyone have blond hair, so that's what he must have had, right?"

"My husband's name was Nali. Fili, yesterday when the Master was here, looked so much like his father that my breath caught in my chest. Fili is the spitting image of his father, except for his eyes. Nali's eyes were brown," she leaned in to study him carefully. "Brown like yours."

She took another sip of her tea. "I knew the Master before he was a duke. His name is Sevan."

Kili smiled sadly. There it was, the name of his father, one that he'd not ever shared with his son. It fit him, he supposed. "I see. So where will we go from here? Everyone will be leaving this place soon, won't they be? Will you give me a tour of the mountains before we go?"

"Fili would be a far better tour guide than I," she confessed. "I never quite embraced life here the way he did. I suppose I will forever view these mountains as the place to which I was exiled and will always associate it with mourning. If you truly wish to experience the magic here, ask Fili."

As if he'd been summoned, Fili appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, rubbing an eye with one hand. "I slept much longer than I'd intended," he said apologetically, voice hoarse with sleep.

"Kili and I were just getting acquainted," Dis told him.

Sleep-tousled and anything but composed, Kili chuckled at what he saw. It was such a nice change from the place he had grown up in. "Morning." Fili still stirred feelings in him that he wasn't willing to give up, and Kili still had no plans of being his brother if it meant having to suppress them, but a lot of wounds were still raw and so for today he wanted to just forget about them. "Toast and tea?" he asked.

Kili had no idea how to make toast. It apparently involved bread on a big fork above fire, so he took a slice, turned questioning eyes to Dis to ask if he was doing it right, and pushed the bread above the fire.

Fili watched Kili's efforts at domesticity with a sad smile. Dis caught Fili's eye and inclined her head towards Kili, who'd remained by the fire. _Go. Talk to him,_ the look implied.

Fili got up and sat down beside Kili. "I'm glad you're still here," fell out of his mouth. "How are you feeling? You scared me."

Kili tried to brush it off as nothing. "His fault. I shouldn't have gone up and talked to him, I suppose, but he had no right to do what he did. I don't understand why everyone is so calm when they say he could be back here by now."

It was hard, looking at Fili and pretending not to feel anything. What was harder was that his mother—their mother—was watching him as he struggled. "A lot of people were up yesterday. Surprised me, actually. I didn't think that many people would stand up against him. I think I saw children with pitchforks, even."

Fili chuckled. "Yes. Around here, as soon as you can pick up a pitchfork or a scythe, we'll teach you how to use one." He playfully bumped Kili's shoulder with his own. "I myself was carding sheep bigger than I was at age six."

He turned to his mother. "We are bringing the flock with us, aren't we?"

"If we're able," Dis told him. "Britta's due to have her ewe at any time. Mother Nature never quite cooperates, does she?"

It was a bitter play of words to Kili, who silenced and prodded at the fire with a poker, reawakening cinders. Ori often told him not to do it because it would heat up the fire, but there was a fascination there that would not be quelled. "How many people are joining in total? I lost count."

Fili didn't answer but stared moodily into the fire. "Our company—some of whom served both the Master and my father—and nearly everyone from this village. I imagine we'll be picking up folks as we travel as well." She stood. "All in all, quite a menagerie of people with a variety of skills and talents. I think I shall go check on the sheep, before the sun goes down."

Without another word, Dis was gone, and the only sound left in the room was the crackling of the fire.

"So," Kili broke the emptiness of the silence, "quite a lot of people. And livestock." He smiled uncomfortably. "It's a little much to get used to. Then again, a lot of things happened. I'm surprised the Master didn't send his court physician here, but I don't think I would really need one now." Yet the ice remained unbroken. Kili let out a sigh. "Are you okay?"

"Actually," Fili told him, "Dr. Oin has come, but not because he was sent. You won't have to deal with the livestock unless you want to, Kili," the blond assured him. "I'm all right, but think my mother put something in my tea."

"She did. Probably in mine too..." Kili looked at the fire, suddenly remembering the toast and quickly pulling the slices out. They were close to being burnt, though thankfully still bordering on acceptable. "Ori visits his family now. I had planned to be there when it happened, but I guess a lot of things strayed from the plan. Maybe, if you'd like, you could give me a tour of the place? Show me where you grew up? I don't think we'll be staying here much longer, but I suppose there is still time now."

"You would want that?" Fili brightened. "Because I'd like nothing more than to show you around a bit. The ruins where Ori and I used to play, our flock, the village..." he sat up straighter, patting down his unruly hair. "Oh, just let me put myself in order a bit, and we can go." He got up to go to the other room where there was a looking glass.

Kili looked down at his own shapeless gown. "Wait up!" he called out, "I need something else to wear, too!" And a bath, perhaps, but he didn't want to push things. Decent clothing would be the only thing he needed. "What about your toast?" Kili followed after Fili without thinking, but his lips parted in uncomfortable surprise when he found the painter with his shirt almost off.

In one fluid motion, Fili drew the shirt off over his head, knowing full well Kili was watching. "I'm sure Mother has something here that will fit you, Kili, if you have nothing clean left," he noticed with relief that Kili's eyes still wanted to gaze upon his bare flesh, if only for quick moments at a time. "Even if your clothes aren't clean, it's all right. Where we're going, clean clothes aren't all that important."

"Yes, but she's out now," Kili said a little breathlessly. Fili could have put his shirt back on if the thought of Kili seeing him truly bothered him. He found himself daring to nearly pull off his own shirt, but then remembered that it was a gown and he'd be removing more than he should. "Perhaps you have something I can borrow in the mean time?"

"Let me see," Fili leaned over and opened the trunk at the foot of Thorin's bed. At the bottom of it were some trousers and jerkins he had worn when he was younger. "Give these a try," he handed the two items to Kili. "I recall you saying how much you like blue."

Kili obediently put on the trousers under his shirt, trying if they fitted first. When they did, he buttoned them up with more confidence and took off his shirt without being careful for Fili not to see him—as a matter of fact, Kili liked the glance when Fili thought he wasn't watching. He wanted to bring up the subject so badly, the thought of it practically burning its way out. The shirt was slightly oversized as he slipped it over his head, and finally Kili caved. He breathed in. "Sorry about what I said before. When you told me. I was too harsh."

"It was harsh news," Fili took a belt from the trunk and cinched it around Kili's waist. "It was hard to hear and harder to deliver. There now. You look passable as a commoner," he chuckled. "A commoner of above-average beauty, of course." He studied Kili at arm's length for a quiet moment, then said, "I'm sorry it was me who had to tell you, Kili. I always felt something was missing in my life. When I met you, I knew I'd found that something. And now...."

"—I can't see you as a brother," Kili interrupted before Fili could say more. It had to be said, painful though it might be. "I could call you brother and pretend to believe it in front of others, and I could do my best to be friends with you, but I can't see you and not want to kiss you. It's impossible."

A sound escaped Fili that was half laugh, half sob, and he sat down on the edge of the bed, as if his legs could no longer support him.

Kili felt poorly equipped to deal with that response. He had no idea how to read it. "I can try..." he muttered, eyes averted, "...but it'll be difficult. It's not very fair, making me fall in love with you and then springing that onto me like that."

"No..." Fili looked up at him, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I—I feel the same way, Kili. I'm glad you're my brother, I want to make that perfectly clear, but I also cannot stop myself from wanting you."

Kili frowned in confusion—then laughed when understanding washed over him. "Truly? You're not telling me and then telling that it cannot be? I wouldn't—"

His breath came in shaking stutters. Kili was scared. He was afraid to hope, for he would be vulnerable when that hope proved futile. It was so easy for Fili to break his heart once and for all in that moment.

"Tell me it's okay to kiss you. I'll wait as long as you need, as long as you promise me that."

"Yes," Fili told him. "It's okay to kiss me, Kili. I might die if you don't."

Nodding feverishly, Kili shifted from foot to foot. He turned and quickly closed the door—neither probably wanted Dis to catch them at this time—but when he turned back around, all courage left him. He could do this. If he didn't, he would blame himself for the rest of his life.

With his eyes anywhere but on Fili, he walked up to him and kneeled in front of him. When he looked up, he bit his lip. Butterflies were flying rampant in his stomach. "I've never been this nervous. Is this normal?"

Fili reached for Kili's hand and encouraged him to sit next to him on the bed. "It's still me. You're still you," he smiled. "Remember how it felt? It was so easy, so right. My feelings for you haven't changed, Kili. I still love you. I still want to grow old with you in a little cottage by the sea."

Kili sealed the wonderful things Fili told him with a careful peck. He remembered how he had been fearless at first, knowing exactly what he wanted and how to get it. It had been a game to Kili, back when Fili had just begun to paint for him. It was a game no longer, and he stood to lose everything. Lips against his own calmed his nerves, and he smiled. Yes, this was how they were supposed to be. "It's still you," he sighed in relief. "Still you." Some of his courage back, Kili leaned forward and parted his lips.

Fili cupped Kili's still-too-warm face with one palm. "Thank you for not hating me," he whispered, slowly covering Kili's mouth with his own. His other arm slipped around Kili's waist and drew him closer. 

With a deep intake of breath, Kili took in Fili's scent, his touch, his all. When he was absolutely sure that this was happening and not a trick of the imagination, he needed more. Kili's hands cupped Fili's cheeks, his thumb brushing his cheek, before kissing him until he ran out of breath. "I can't hate you." Kili grinned the smile of a man besotted. He stole another kiss. "Look at what you make me do. By the gods, I need you. Not like that, I mean. Not." There was not enough privacy for that. "I just need you beside me. You are like the breath of life in my lungs and finally, finally I get to inhale."

Fili smiled, relaxing fully against Kili, just wanting to hold him close. "It's going to be all right, Kili. I know you're scared, but I'll take care of you. I'll fight for you with my last breath...and even after that," he promised. "If you will let me."

Kili felt warm inside—protected. "It'll be fine," he repeated Fili's words. "I'm yours. I wish you had told me this when you told me I'm your brother. I thought I had lost you. Of course I'll let you, but know that anyone who challenges you in the future will deal with me, too." He suddenly flung his arms around Fili's neck and hugged him tight. Kili felt like he could do anything. "Please tell me there's a place around here with some privacy. Or where we're going. I don't care."

"Do you remember," Fili toyed with his hair, "back when we were bathing at the Manor and I told you about the hot springs in the mountain?" his smile was impish. "It's not a long walk...a mile or so. We could—" he raised one eyebrow questioningly.

"We _should_." Kili easily straddled Fili's hips. "Now?" He continued to steal small kisses from him, leaving him little space to talk. "I do need a bath. It's not a public place, is it?" He nipped at Fili's ear. "I think the thing I'll miss most is that lock on the door. If we head south, I'll have Thorin fashion us one. Does he do locks?"

Slowly, leisurely, he slid off him and took both his hands in his own. Kili started pulling Fili to the doorframe. He kissed him once more before ducking and opening the door.

"Wait, Kili, _wait,_ " Fili huffed, grabbing their cloaks from two pegs by the door. "It's still a little chilly out there. We'll need these." He handed Kili his thick leather cloak. "The springs are up the mountain a bit," he told his brother. "Certainly secluded, but others do know they exist. This time of year...who knows what or who we might find there. The good news is, there are several springs. Oh, you're going to love how it feels," he smiled, squeezing Kili's arm. "Just love it."

"Well, we could also just stick to bathing," Kili mused, though he was already picturing Fili naked in hot water, and Kili in the ability to wash his hair or massage his shoulders. There was decidedly nothing innocent about just bathing, if Fili knew the thoughts in his head. He quickly whipped the cloak around him and reached for the still unfinished slice of toast. "You want it? Else I do."

With one hand again linked, Kili tugged Fili further outside, but once the door closed behind them, he felt self-conscious again. "Uh," he squeezed Fili's hand, "do you think this is okay? People would notice."

"They know we're friends; most know we're brothers as well. No one will think twice of us being seen together, Kili. If anything, they'd expect it now," Fili smiled. "Especially after my theatrics yesterday. I don't know what came over me," he blushed, reaching for the toast in Kili's hand. He took a couple bites, then handed the rest back to Kili. "Enjoy."

Kili recalled the night before only faintly. He leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I'll behave, for now." Chewing on the toast to properly fill his stomach, he let himself be guided through the small town—it was smaller than he had thought—and up the sloping south side of the mountain. He remembered why they called these the Blue Mountains and made a vow to himself to come back up here at sunset and see for himself.

People they passed looked at them oddly, but they made no mention of it, and nor did they have reason to question their friendship. Nearly all of the village had been present the night before. They all must know how Kili had doubted his lineage in favor of the man who raised him. Many probably wondered why he hadn't gone back, for in that household was where wealth was to be found. Most of these people looked hard-worked. They had probably never had a good meal in their lives. "Fee," Kili asked absently, "how come, if there is so much productivity in this place, food being planted and stock being kept, that people are so poor? They ought to be thriving, considering all the things they have to trade."

"We don't do what we do to become great importers and exporters," Fili explained. "Each person does what they do for the village. Each day, Varina brings water to each household before dawn. She does it again each evening. Muri is a wheat farmer and miller. Most of his wheat goes to Dori, who bakes several batches of bread a day, which all goes to the village. Wigrid keeps bees, so we always have honey. Mother's sheep keep us clothed—sometimes fed if there's a surplus. You see, we are like spokes on a wagon wheel. None of us works to get rich. We work to survive. Very little money changes hands here, so we rarely have any."

They were out of sight range of the village, so he reached again for Kili's hand. "Please don't be upset, Kili," he told him. "Yes, everyone saw you struggling yesterday. He was your father for twenty-one years. You're human, and you love him. The people would be far more disappointed in you if you didn't love him. You have passion, and people respond to that. You're going to fit in just fine."

"I would like to see him again," Kili replied. "I know what he did, and I'm not forgiving him for that. He would keep me from coming back, I know that too. It would be easier if I could hate him for those things, but I can't. He was a good ruler to the people before mother died." He squeezed Fili's hand. "I won't go. I'd be stupid to risk being pulled away from you again." A smile. "You're not getting rid of me, Fee. I belong here more than I do in that grand manor."

"Death changes people," Fili agreed. "Thorin tells me Mother was very different before my father— _our_ father—was killed. Ah," he smiled, "here we are."

They had come upon a flat section of the hillside, nearly obscured by mist and surrounded by fragrant pine trees. As they walked into the mist, Fili carefully guiding Kili, the younger man realized it wasn't mist but steam from a number of pools in the stone where hot water sat. "Welcome to the Hot Springs," Fili told him, shucking off his cloak. "I know it seems a little cold to be doing this, but you have to trust me. Take your clothes off. My favorite spot is over here..."

Amused, Kili undid the belt and wriggled out of his shirt. The damp wasn't warm, but it wasn't too cold either. "All of it?" he wondered. "Are we alone?" He could no longer see the village and it felt like they were.

When Fili started on his trousers, Kili got his answer. He stood there just watching him. "I think you're right," murmured he, advancing on the other man until his breath skimmed Fili's ear, "my favorite spot is right here. You're beautiful."

Fili dipped his head and blushed, tossing away the last of his clothing. "We are alone as can be," he told Kili, extending his hand. "Come." He led his brother to a round, tub-shaped pool. "Step in carefully," he cautioned. "If you put your foot down right... _here,_ ," he demonstrated, giving a whimper of delight as his foot was engulfed in the hot water, "you can ease in."

He slowly stepped down again until the water came to just below his semi-erect sex. Then he sat down, waiting for Kili to join him. The rocks beneath their backsides were warm, but not to the point of discomfort. The water was perfectly hot and eased away the tension in Fili's muscles.

"I'm so happy to be here," Fili lay his head back against a stone. "So happy to share this with you."


	19. I Don't Think You'll Ever Be Rid Of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens at the hot springs... stays at the hot springs. ♥

As quickly as he could, Kili discarded the remainder of his clothing. He stepped into the water, ready to follow the naked painter wherever he wanted to take him, and promptly flinched when the water was hotter than he had imagined. "My baths were cooler than this..." Yet Fili sat waiting, apparently impervious, and Kili had to make it there one way or the other, so he tried again. Water lapped at his ankles and then his knees. He grinned when he began to understand why Fili liked it so much. When Kili sat down, a blissful drowsiness came over him and he sighed out. "This is really nice..." Lazily he pulled Fili's lips against his own and engaged him in a slow kiss.

Fili's warming body shivered against Kili's as they drew into one another's arms. "This might well be my favorite place in the world. It'll be a shame to leave it behind. But I so look forward to our next adventure." He smoothed his hands up over Kili's shoulders, bringing warm water in his wake to rub into the muscles, an act to which he gave plenty of attention. "You have such a lovely body, Kili. I could touch it for hours," he told him.

Kili practically moaned. "'Wouldn't stop you." The massage was much more welcome to his tired body, and while he had planned to sit atop him and shower him with kisses and touches alike, Kili now turned and bared his back for Fili to continue. "I still don't understand why you're for me, why nobody whisked you away before I met you. And by Jove am I happy that you're not making paintings for anyone else at the court, or that I showed you off to others. I wanted to," he admitted. "Oh, could you go a little lower? Right--right there."

"No one else has ever struck my fancy," Fili told him, leaning in to nibble on a particularly sensitive spot behind Kili's ear. "Although, Kili, I have to be perfectly honest with you. If you had turned out to be not quite so wonderful, I would have pursued a relationship with Ori." He paused to let that sink in. "Does that surprise you? Upset you?"

"...It upsets me. But no, it doesn't surprise me." Kili closed his eyes. "You and Ori only had eyes for each other on the first day. It doesn't mean I like hearing it. Please don't speak of it today. We have had enough things between us." He breathed deep, but the thought that if maybe Kili had rejected him, them being brothers, and for Fili to have already made a choice about his replacement didn't make him comfortable.

"I did say 'before you turned out to be quite so wonderful,' did I not?" Fili reaffirmed. "I love you, Kili, want _you._ " He slid his hand down Kili's flank and circled around to take his erection in hand. "I don't do things like this to just anyone, you know." And he slowly began pumping.

The smile returned on Kili's lips. "No you don't," he remembered. Fili hadn't done this for anyone, bar himself. When Kili had had him, Fili had been uneducated and unaware about everything. He would know only Kili in his lifetime, Kili vowed--and he meant to make it the best he could give him. He leaned into the embrace and let his head lean back, before tilting it and kissing the other. "I love you, Fee. I'm yours. But by all that is mighty, come closer so I can touch you too."

In the water, Kili weighed less than he normally would. Fili took advantage of the buoyancy to slide Kili backwards onto his lap. Slotted together, he slipped Kili's damp hair to the side and licked a long stripe up his neck, biting down gently on his pulse point. "I rather like you there," he whispered.

Kili groaned. "As do I. Do that again." He could feel Fili's hardness pressing against him and the desire of having it inside him made him eager, while at the same time he liked how slow they were building everything up. "You feel really good." One hand moved to the one stroking him, lightly grazing the back of it.

Fili bit down again, playfully growling like a puppy, then slithered his tongue up into Kili's ear, continuing to bring him closer to orgasm. "You told me yourself that having sex in a tub is near impossible," he told him. "I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"Oh, it's possible," Kili breathed. It was harder, not for them unless they got a bit more used to each other. "But if you're not going to have me here, then please, take me to where you will."

"Unless you want to do it in the trees," Fili prodded him again, gently, with his erection, "we need do it here in the springs. There's no privacy to be had in the village. Tell me what you want, Kili."

In his embrace Kili turned until they sat face to face. "Not in the trees," he shook his head in amusement, tangling his fingers through hair where it wasn't yet wet. He easily straddled him. Kili's eyes were half-lidded in pleasure. "I want you to claim me, but not where it's too much of a struggle. Getting out of the water is cold, isn't it? Then just touch me."

"Very, _very_ cold," Fili assured him, sliding his spare hand down between them to fondle Kili's balls. "You'll never want to leave this place, and no other bath will ever compare. I do pray we'll find hot springs by the sea, but I'm not sure of our chances."

There was no sound but the whispering of wind through the pines and the slight hissing of steam rising from the water. Fili's blue eyes stayed riveted to Kili's face.

"We'll be warmed by the sun there." Kili worried his bottom lip with a promise and draped his arms over Fili's shoulders. "You know what? Let's try. We can always change plans if it's too difficult, and the edges of the springs don't look that uncomfortable." He pushed his hips down and sighed in ill-concealed bliss, before dipping in for a kiss. "You feel so good, Fee. I'm the luckiest man in the world."

But Fili was worried at Kili's rapidly-changing emotions. "I know that you care for me, Kili. Of that I am certain. Yet, I fear that this voyage--the circumstances and the departure from the life you have come to know--will cause you unhappiness. I fear what I cannot control. Promise me, if you are unhappy and it's something I can control, you will tell me."

Kili kissed him against his cheek and along the shell of his ear in a way that was both desirous and soothing. "As long as you love me and want me this way. That's all I will need to give you everything of me. I don't care if I need to hide it from people. It beats the alternative of not having you at all. Just don't pretend you want someone else to keep up appearances. Why do you think of it now?"

"I will struggle to hide my love for you," Fili assured him. "There is no question about that. I'm so proud of the fact that you love me that I want to shout it from the rooftops. There is no one else for me, Kili." The hand that had been on Kili's testicles slipped round to the back and slid down the cleft of the man's ass teasingly. "I want to do this, Kili. But I don't want to hurt you."

"And I'll tell you before you would," Kili breathed against his lips. "Don't be afraid of me. I want you to feel how incredible it is. I love you." With a push, he tried to edge the finger inside, but Kili was clumsy and the maneuver didn't work as he had planned it. "Oh come on," he groaned in frustration at the failed attempt, "you must know how badly I want it." Kili should be thinking about how Fili didn't mind telling others. It was simply that his mind could think of hardly anything but Fili naked.

"Be still, Kili," Fili cautioned. "I desperately want for you to feel good. Let me try, please," he begged, trying to remember what Kili had done to him that night at the masquerade ball. But Kili had had oil. All Fili had were his fingers and hot water.

 _Was it the index finger that went in first?_ Fili asked himself. He wanted to ask Kili to get on his knees, facing away from him with his hands on the edge of the pool, but the rocks below the surface would dig into the flesh and cause pain. He'd have to do it without watching.

Confident that he had the most control over his middle finger, that was the one he chose to breach Kili with, just the slightest bit.

Sure now that Fili would indeed have him, Kili let out a small gasp. He guided Fili's free hand back to his erection and allowed him any space necessary, after which he leaned in to nuzzle, his eyes falling shut and his lips delicately parted. Kili moved his hips so that Fili could reach him easier, but he made sure to have his cock brush against the other's.

Hot water flowed around them, heating them up but also making them languid, wrinkly-skinned. Kili kissed Fili and slowly got up. He dispelled the look of confusion and drew Fili up with him. "Here is easier for you." Then he lay down and quite shamelessly let his legs fall apart. It was cool but not cold, thanks to the hot water.

Kili had had the good sense to lay down on his discarded cloak. Still, the air had a chill to it. "You're utterly insane," Fili smiled down at him, already shivering. "Now, let me get a look at you." 

He slotted himself between Kili's legs and used Kili's muscular thigh to pull himself in even closer. "I wonder," he mused aloud. "Could saliva do the trick?"

"Oh, yes. But you'll need more of it than you would with oils." Kili dragged him down for another kiss while his legs wrapped around Fili's waist. "We can get back into the water after. So we won't catch a cold. In the mean time," he grinned, "I'll keep you warm enough." One hand squeezed a buttock and pulled Fili's hips right where he wanted them against him, before the hand trailed up and started caressing his back.

"Well then," Fili cocked his head to the side. "You've been soaking a bit; you're clean. What say I kiss you-- _lick_ you--down there? Is that something I can do?

Kili's cock twitched in response while he bobbed his head eagerly. "Go on." Fili had best hurry, because Kili was ready to turn them around and take what he needed for himself. He felt stupidly nervous, which surprised him.

Fili's tongue flicked out momentarily, licking his lips unconsciously as he smiled at Kili's flustered state. "Lay back down," he instructed, "on your stomach this time, and let me try."

Kili complied, again eagerly splaying his legs. Now access was easier and Fili immediately spread the globes of Kili's ass with gentle thumbs and moved in to kiss the opening that was revealed amid no small amount of dark hair. It certainly didn't taste the way Fili was expecting, but then he had nothing to compare it against. He gave a few tentative, experimental licks, then flattened out his tongue and began to lave over the tight ring of muscle.

As if the core of his being was being brushed, Kili stifled a moan against the palm of his hands. His back pushed up and his hips had a hard time keeping still. "Where did you learn about that?" he spoke, amazed. Kili tried to spread his legs wider, and yet every time Fili's tongue did something amazing, he would collapse and bite his hand, until a red welt was beginning to appear. "More," he nodded vigorously, "you have no idea--oh, gods--"

Fili knew because he had asked Ori about it. Between much blushing and embarrassed sighing, Ori had explained a few methods he had read about and heard of that could be employed in pleasing a lover.

"You're going to chew your hand off if you aren't careful," Fili smiled over Kili's shoulder. He delved his tongue back in, and slipping a finger in next to it for good measure, crooking it to try to find the nub...ah! There it was. It was smaller than he expected, considering how good it felt to have it touched.

Kili convulsed. His cry was wanton and would have been embarrassing, had he not been far enough gone to give a damn. Raising himself on his knees despite the coarse ground, he did as much as he could to have Fili do it again. Kili was practically leaking to receive the other in his most intimate of places. He lost words to say and simply snaked his body in whichever direction would get him the most of everything. This was the man who would be his--his in a relationship, his in his heart of hearts and not to share with anyone, and he would have to give him up for nobody.

It wasn't long before a second finger, then a third, joined the first inside of Kili--who by this time had become a needy mess. "I am going to put myself inside you now," Fili warned him, pulling his fingers out with exaggerated slowness and lining up the head of his uncircumcised cock with Kili's quite wet hole.

It wasn't fair how poised and in control of himself Fili appeared, while it was the first time he took a man at that, while Kili was panting, clawing at the ground and pushing back against him with all that he had. "Take me," he keened, "I need you so much. I'm ready for you. Oh--oh, _please_."

He flinched at the intrusion only momentarily. Then Kili was pushing back, reaching for his throbbing cock that was in need of attention, but slipping further in curiosity and feeling with two fingers how Fili pushed himself slowly in. The thought, combined with what his fingers felt, was too overwhelmingly hot. "I love you."

"Y--you do?" Fili froze, one hand played over the small of Kili's back and the other steadying himself by holding onto his hip. "I love you too, Kili. Love you so much." He leaned over to kiss the back of Kili's exposed neck, then took his cock in hand as he slowly began to move in and out of him.

"Of course I do," Kili managed to get out. Had he not said it before? He would never have come here if he wasn't sure it was Fili he wanted. The price was too high for anyone else. Not so for the painter. Kili's hips pushed back against Fili's, but he winced when he was slightly overzealous and the stretch hadn't worn down enough. He stilled, his hand on his lover's hip urging him to do the same. "Just a few seconds..."

"I'm sorry," Fili immediately apologized. "It just...feels so _good_ ," he admitted. "So much better than I expected, Kili." His voice was hoarse with passion. 

A breeze came up and gooseflesh rose on Kili's back, which Fili soothed away with his hands, enjoying the vise-like grip on his sex. "I should like to paint you naked someday," he whispered. "Someday when we have our own little cottage by the sea."

"I will walk around naked for you all day," Kili agreed immediately. An insistent hand on Fili's hip gestured him to go on. If anyone caught them here, Kili would have no regrets--though there were some people he preferred telling in their own time. He felt like he was brimming with happiness, incarnate in Fili making love to him. "Next time, we do this on a bed." Kili propped himself up on his knees. He wasn't ashamed of jutting his ass up for Fili. "It's better now. Please, more."

Fili gave a slow, languorous roll of his hips to test the waters. When Kili didn't protest or cry out in pain, he increased his movements. The tight heat was nearly overwhelming and he couldn't imagine it was possible to be closer to another person. It wasn't long before he was slick with sweat despite the chill. He reached around front and took Kili's erection in hand, stripping it in time with his undulations.

The pleasure was incredible and he cried out, "Love, it's so good. So very, very _good!_ "

Kili could not reply, occupied with keeping his lips wet when his breathing dried them out and supporting himself well enough to move forward when Fili did so and pulling back to prepare for the next thrust that would bring him deeper in every time. He was a mewling mess with no regard for his honor whatsoever.

It was worse when Kili became truly tethered to the edge. He tried to muffle his sounds and pushed his forehead against the garments separating them from the cold ground, and tensed around Fili in the telltale signs of heading towards his climax.

Fili too saw the signs and his breathing sped up. "Yes, Kili," he crooned, "come for me, please. I cannot wait to see you come undone."

 _He was watching him._ Kili moaned when he realized that his lover was looking at him. He found himself momentarily faltering, but soon the tension that shook in his abdomen became again undeniable. He bit his lip and for a moment his breathing stopped. Then Kili's pleasure broke in a violent burst. "Ah! No, no, keep touching me! Keep--"

And Fili was, of course. He couldn't have kept his hands off Kili's body if he tried. Sweat-slick and solid, Kili grew taut and cried out, clamping down on Fili's already over-sensitized cock. In only seconds, Fili came as well, clinging tightly to his lover as they supported one another through their respective orgasms.

When they had both wrung as much pleasure out of one another as they possibly could, Fili pulled out gently and slowly, then collapsed on the cloak next to Kili. "That," he said breathlessly, caressing Kili's hair, "it was..."

"Nice, right?" Kili understated. He grinned, sated, and rolled onto his side. "If I spill on your coat, sorry in advance. I'll clean it if I do, promise." Fili looked wrung out and had goose bumps of which Kili wasn't sure whether it was the cold or the aftermath of their union.

The bliss finally made way for gratitude. Kili's eyes became soft as he brought a hand up to trace Fili's features. "You're here with me. I didn't think it was still in the cards when you told me everything, but it is, and I will cherish it as the greatest miracle. Thank you, Fili." Then he prodded him with a smile. "So. First time. I told you it was good. Wait until I get you in a bed with privacy."

In his mind, Fili was already picturing their little stone cottage on a hill overlooking the sea. Warm breezes stirred the curtains, made of his mother's loveliest blue cloth. Friends and family were always welcome to come and go, but at the end of the day it would always be the two of them, snuggled down in front of a warm fire, toasting bread with cheese and drinking strong tea before they tumbled into bed.

Lost in his reverie, Fili didn't regain his senses until Kili had rolled them both back into the water.

Up he sputtered, wet hair plastered over his face. "You interrupted my fantasy," he smiled.

Kili easily sat on him again, this time without an ulterior agenda. "And what fantasy was that?" he wondered. "Do you walk naked in that fantasy, because if so, you need to tell me." The heat of the water made him lazy, but part of the weight he shifted onto Fili was also simply basking in having their bodies so close. Kili twirled a stand of his lover's hair around his finger, before thinking bigger and starting to undo the braids. Fili looked unkempt and irrationally attractive with loosened hair. And it would be just for Kili.

"I was just picturing us at the end of a day, relaxing in front of our fireplace," Fili told him. "I cannot promise you that what we're embarking on is going to be without pain, Kili. But I will be with you."

Kili kissed him. "No more doubts about that. I think I can deal with all of that if there's you." Another kiss. It was still strange, how fast he had fallen for a man whose world he knew close to nothing about. Men had come before Fili, and Kili had assumed that they would come after him. Little had he known that Fili was the end of one world and the start of a whole new one. "How long should we wait until we tell people? I think I want to tell people, now that I don't think I'm required to procreate and raise a royal heir, but they'll think oddly of it. Maybe just a few people first?"

"I don't know," Fili bit his lip nervously. "I will struggle to hide it, but I'm not sure it's something we should tell everyone. I'm not sure what to expect from Uncle Thorin, honestly. For now, I'm content just to love you, and have Ori's support and friendship. We have a long road ahead--and, who knows?--you may find in time that you cannot stand to be around me." He playfully splashed water in Kili's direction.

"That day will never come." Kili countered by jabbing at his sides underwater. "Besides, if it should come, I will still be your brother, and you'll still have my heart. I don't think you'll ever be rid of me." He pressed forward, cornering Fili, and kissed him along his jaw. " _She_ will notice. I want to be honest with at least her. I know she won't like it, but I think she will like knowing she is being lied to less. I owe it to her, Fee, I'm not sure why, but I do."

"I told Mother," Fili admitted sheepishly, "about my love for you. She seemed disappointed, if only for the pain it might cause us, but not terribly surprised. No one seems terribly surprised, do they?"

"That should make it easier," Kili said, more to himself. His birth mother being disappointed with either him or Fili over what they had, it hurt, but he supposed that they would face many more people sharing that sentiment before it got better. "I'll talk to her when we get back. I would like to see her as a mother." He nuzzled into Fili and closed his eyes. "I suppose I can see you as a brother if it's secondary to being lovers. Is that okay with you?"

Fili wrapped both arms around him and kissed him softly. "I always wanted a brother," he confessed. "But love...well, I wanted that more. You needn't worry so much about pleasing Mum, Kili. She's loved you since you were in her womb," he caressed Kili's cheek. "As did I."

It was odd how it was only then that Kili recalled it. "You spoke to me about it. When you were still painting me, you told me you would have been a big brother, but that your brother died. It was before the ball, I think, so you can't have known." He smiled sadly and sought out more of Fili's touch. "It's strange. You would have been my proud big brother. I would have seen you grow up and fall in love with someone else. I think I would have loved you still though. It feels as if it can't have been any other way."

Fili nodded. "Had we grown up together, you'd be a different person than you are now--and no doubt, so would I. Everything happens for a reason, I like to think. You finding me in the market--of all the painters in the world that you could have found. And Ori...my childhood friend was with you all along. What good fortune. Despite what has happened to us, Kili, we are so very lucky to have found each other," his lips brushed Kili's ear softly, "and I will always cherish you."

Kili couldn't feel better than he did now. All the pieces in his life were starting to fall in their place--or at least those pieces that mattered. Becoming self-sufficient would still be a challenge, as was this new family that was a chaos around him. But love had found him, and it would not be pushed away for the sake of obligations. He could live his life the way he wanted to live it. He sat there, simply admiring Fili for being there, golden hair turned dark with the water and gentle eyes only on him. He looked like a man strong enough to protect him, and oh, Kili longed to be in his protection. He didn't mind if it was showing weakness, something that the Master had always told him not to. With Fili, Kili wanted to.

He shivered at Fili's lips against his ear. "To hell and back, I will cherish you."

If it were up to him, they would be sitting here for hours, but the others would be getting worried, and his skin was turning wrinkly. "How do you dry when you leave the hot springs?" he wondered. "We should leave soon. And I want to be on our way south before the Master knows we've gone."

Fili chuckled. "We leave in the morning, Kili. We wanted to give our neighbors time to pack their belongings. As far as drying goes," he smiled, "we don't stand on ceremony around here. I usually walk naked for the first quarter mile or so until the breeze has dried me. Then, I put on my clothes."

His brother's mouth shaped into an 'o'. "Can I walk a bit behind you, for the sake of the splendid view?" Kili hoisted himself out of the water. He shivered despite the heat that clung to his limbs still. "No towels... this will take some getting used to." 

Fili chuckled. "We do have towels, of course. Mother makes a good thick muslin cloth that we use for bathing. Most of the village, if they can make the short trek, prefer to come here every few days for a good soak. It is better than any tub I've sat in, and you get to commune with nature."

An echo of a laugh suddenly reached their ears. 

"And, it would seem we aren't alone up here after all," his eyes scanned the surrounding area. "Oh," he took Kili's hand and pointed in the distance. "Look."

Two dark heads could be seen poking up from another of the in-ground springs, some distance away. It was Thorin and Frerin. 

"I don't think they've seen us," Fili grinned. "Let's go home."

"Shouldn't we--?" Kili looked over his shoulder as Fili dragged him along. He blinked at the sound of merriment. "I don't think I've heard either of them laugh like that before."

"They found one another again," Fili turned to him, naked and shivering a bit, and hugged him. "What better reason for their happiness?" He fluffed out Kili's cloak and put it over his brother's shoulders. "There you go."

Kili ducked his head. He remembered how his uncles had only been able to see each other once a year. A chill made him shiver and wrap his cloak closer around him. "We should let them be, I suppose." Besides, he thought as they started back towards the village, they were both naked. Thorin and Frerin, knowing their background, would know of their relationship, despite any denials.

Kili linked his hand in Fili's and smiled. He glanced down between them and grinned at the sight of Fili's firm behind. "Mine," he announced. 

"Yours, now and always," Fili agreed readily, hefting their clothing in one arm. Hand-in-hand, naked as the day of their births, they set off across the flats.


	20. Something Better Down The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How would we know we aren't missing something better down the road?" Fili wondered.
> 
> "Isn't that the way of life?" Ori smiled. "You never do know, do you?"

The journey south took longer than two weeks. Many of them had brought their families and livestock with them. It made traveling cumbersome and they had to be vigilant, but they were convinced that the rewards would surely outweigh the hassle once they found a new home. More than once Kili dropped into fits of laughter as Fili tried to wrangle fifteen sheep along on their tow lines at once.

They were fortunate that spring had come and it was comfortable to sleep outdoors. As they grew closer and closer to their destination, the climate grew more temperate and the smell of the air changed.

One day, as Ori scouted along ahead, he ran into a farmer with a cart full of vegetables in a myriad of colors. The carrots were fat and orange—not anemic like those grown at higher climates. The potatoes were perfect and the tomatoes...well, they were...

"...Magical," Ori whispered, as he tipped his hand to the farmer. "Your produce. Was it grown near here?"

The man looked upon his inquirer as if he was both sent from heaven for his interest in his produce as slightly simple in the head for asking such an obvious question. "But of course," he said with matching reluctance. "They're prize-winning, after all. Don't tell me you this is the first time you see the famous tomatoes of Bag End." But with equal amounts of pride, he added, "If it is, then I call it outrage and I insist you must try one." The farmer picked out the best-looking one of the lot, gave it a quick polish with his sleeve and handed it over.

"Oh, I shouldn't!" Ori exclaimed. "It is surely destined to fetch a fair price at market." But his stomach gave a betraying growl as his fingers fondled the tumescent, lovely skin of the tomato. He brought it to his nose and took a whiff. "I can still smell the earth and the vine on it."

"Which is why they are prize-winning," boasted the farmer. He nodded. "Go on then, you're clearly not from around here and I admit I do like to find out whether they share the same good taste where you're from. Are you alone?"

Ori chuckled. "Far from it. I travel with a group of forty or so. More if you count our livestock." He took a bite of the tomato, juice spurting and running down his chin and arm. "By the gods, it's perfect," he murmured around it. "We haven't had fresh vegetables for weeks. You see, we're traveling to the sea. Once we get there, we'll be planting, building. We just need to find the right spot to make a colony. My, but I must have more," he grinned, taking another generous bite, and muttering his thanks.

The farmer looked rightly proud, though he couldn't imagine how anyone could do without fresh vegetables for so long. "To the sea?" wondered he, "why there? The salt in the ground and in the air makes the ground only fertile for several specific crops. Not that livestock will mind it much, but you could never get tomatoes like this by the sea. Good gracious no, not for me it's not. I prefer the soil of the green hills, with my own garden and the lakes for water not far off." He frowned. "You say you want to start a colony, then I'd advise you not to go to the sea. But that is of course just my thought." He reached in his pocket and took out a pipe. Three puffs and the weed smoldered. He sighed out in pleasure. "You know, there is an inn not far from where I live. Should you find your lodgings for the night there, then do come in for a visit. Not with everyone, of course, but I think I can tell a fellow gourmand when I see one."

"My name's Ori," Ori extended his hand. After realizing it was covered with tomato juice, he pulled it back, wiped it on his pants and tried again with a chuckle. "I shall, of course, tell the others your thoughts about colonization. Several of them have their hearts set on a seaside home, I fear."

"Then they haven't yet enjoyed the hospitality of our little village," the man attested, "and all the more reason for you to stop at the Green Dragon. My name is Bilbo, of Bag End. Ask for me if you'd like to come around." He inclined his head and patted the pony pulling his cart, at which it started to move again. For a small chat with a stranger, Bilbo found it a pleasing one. "The Green Dragon," he called again over his shoulder to Ori. "Have a safe journey, you and your people, and perhaps we’ll meet again." He was off before Ori could get another word in.

"Bilbo," Ori tested the name on his tongue and waved his hand in parting.

That evening, the entourage stopped at the Green Dragon at Ori's insistence. 

This inn, Fili concluded, was far homier than the Prancing Pony had been. Its inhabitants seemed entirely more happy and the food was incredible.

"I like it here," he told Kili, squeezing his hand under the table. "Such kind people."

"This is one of the many colonies to the south I visited with my family as a young girl," Dis told them. "Now you understand the allure."

The inn bustled with life, but it was the outside that had Kili transfixed. Through the windows he could see people dancing about merrily under starlight and fire, and their laughter could sometimes be heard over the noise of the inn. Without meaning to be rude, he got up and walked to the window—

Only to gasp and veer back when a yellow light burst in the sky. Oh, but he _knew_ what that was! Laughing when he came back, Kili pulled both Fili and Dis up by one hand up to the door and outside. "Fireworks! You have to come and see this, both of you. I didn't know they knew about fireworks so far from the city. Where is Ori? He has to come see this too!"

"That's one of Gandalf's creations, if my eyes do not deceive me," Balin grinned, overhearing their conversation. "Do you lads know that old man once worked as a fusilier in the Master's guards? A master with powder, that one."

"Guilty," Gandalf sat under the eaves of the inn, drawing at his pipe. "I've been carrying some with me for just such a merry gathering."

"Everyone seems so happy here," Gimli, Gloin's eldest son spoke up. "Hard to believe such a place exists. "Is this a special occasion?"

"Just a typical weekday night," a busty barmaid said, passing by with three steins in each hand.

Kili, however, looked for signs of Ori, who still hadn't shown up. "He's never far away," he whispered to Fili. He wished Ori could see it. He would love the nightly sky flowers, how he had once on his first fireworks show called it. "He mentioned a farmer this afternoon, didn't he? What was his name again? Maybe that is where he went."

"Ah, Bilbo, wasn't it?" Dis spoke up. She glowed at the joy her two sons displayed. They hadn't fooled her about what they were to each other for a second—which was still taking time to get used to—but their happiness made it acceptable for her. "He mentioned an invitation, but I believe it was rather a personal one."

"Could it be Ori has met someone special?" Fili smiled at the notion. "I must say, whoever made these tomatoes and onions fried in oil could easily become my new best friend.”

"D'you suppose they eat like this every day?" Frerin wondered, rubbing the bulge of his overstuffed stomach.

"That might explain the shape of their bellies," Thorin couldn't help but smile, watching Gloin and his wife step into the line of dancers. "This is a lovely village, sister," he leaned over and told Dis, "although we are still many miles from the sea."

"I too like it here," Kili voiced his unnecessary opinion. Dis laughed and gave him a good-natured push out of the conversation—which Kili weaseled himself back into in the blink of an eye. "I'm just saying, if Ori finds someone here, I can't leave him behind. It's either he comes with us, or we stay here. And I have never had cheese this good."

Kili didn't know that Ori was really interested, of course. It could be an unusual friendship. But even that, Kili would encourage. He suddenly didn't have a hard time waking up in a house like this, half burrowed under the ground so the roof could be a garden, and perfect insulation for the house that way.

Dis laughed at the obnoxiousness of her son. "I do like the promise of these round bellies. It has been a long time since we have had food so fresh. If all of it is local, well..." She turned to one of the serving girls. "Under which rule do these lands fall?"

The lass returned her with a confused look. "None, miss. We don't trade a lot, and in fact most people overlook this area in passing through."

"I wonder," Frerin mused, far too lazy to get up from the soft grass he was lying upon, "how hard it would be to dig a house under a hill."

"It wouldn't be quite so bad," Bofur told them. "Bifur says all we need is the right equipment. The real question is, would these people be able to put up with all of _us?_ "

None of them had an answer to that one.

Ori and Bilbo rejoined the company shortly after. Both, despite trying to straighten themselves up, had bits of straw clinging to their clothing. 

"What lovely fireworks," Ori smiled around at the lot of them. "Don't you think?"

Of course he didn't fool the man he had spent half his life in service to, not for one bit. Kili apologized to Bilbo and then to Fili, and pulled Ori out into the night with him. "Lovely fireworks, indeed," he rounded on him in happiness, "What have you been up to, dear friend? You haven't seen a minute of those fireworks, have you?"

"I suppose you could say we made our own." Even in the dim torchlight, Kili could see Ori was blushing. "Bilbo is quite something."

Kili gasped. He pulled Ori to sit down, then sat opposite him with the look of a man just having heard the best news he could. "How? That's...You met him this afternoon! You made no mention of him being incredibly attractive, only about his tomatoes and the Green Dragon, Green Dragon, Green Dragon!" A beat of silence, but then Kili was hugging him. "Sneaky bugger! That's wonderful."

"I cannot explain it, Kili," Ori's face wore a look of near rapture. "He's...he's perfectly wonderful and we've found we have quite a bit in common already. And he does grow such lovely tomatoes, doesn't he?"

"Lovely indeed," Fili ate the last bit of fried tomato from his plate. "Tell me, Kili, would you like to stay a few days among these people?"

Kili turned to Ori. "Would you?"

When Ori nodded, he reached for Fili's hand. "Very much so, I think. Would you?" Kili had no answer for when Fili said no, but he was in too good spirits to consider that. Ori, his best friend for so long, whom he had tried to match with others several times and who had been so reserved—almost scared—of the thought of intimacy, had found someone. It was the kind of news that made Kili only want to stay here with a stronger passion. "And they have lakes to swim in, and forests to hunt in."

After so many weeks on the road, it was easy to catch the fever to settle down. "It's lovely here. The people are terribly kind. But, how would we know we aren't missing something better down the road?" Fili wondered.

"Isn't that the way of life?" Ori smiled. "You never do know, do you?"

"If Ori found someone here, it doesn't need to get better," Kili declared. "After all, we have each other and there will be food. I don't need better, Fee. I would be happy with you here." He longed to kiss him, but they still needed to come out with their love to some of the company, and he wanted to do that properly. "Besides," he whispered so that Ori couldn't hear, "you promised me another portrait, one where I am not dressed. I can think of at least six places around here where I would _pose_ for you."

Ori's brothers were already in a heated discussion with Bofur about the proper manner of building an underground house. Bombur had cornered the Green Dragon's chef and the two were swapping recipes. Dis' sheep were grazing on the fertile hill nearby. There seemed to be no end of happiness all around, from the youngest member of their entourage, to the oldest.

"I shall ask around," Thorin told them, "and see how the others like this place. Perhaps a few days rest will do us good."

\- - - - - 

A few days turned into weeks, and into months and into years.

Thus, it came to pass that the ragtag group of artisans, farmers, families and rebels made their permanent home in Bag End. Everyone, from the oldest to the youngest, had something to contribute to life in the cozy little village. The soil was ideal for farming, but quite easy to dig into and build their homes, Thorin's entourage found out soon enough. 

Fili and Kili never quite got to live in a cottage by the sea, but at least twice a year they loaded up a wagon with revelers and spent a few days at the beach, picnicking and carousing on blankets around bonfires long into the night with Gandalf’s fireworks for entertainment.

Months after their departure, word reached them that the Master was looking for his lost son, seeking to make amends. All of the land was on the lookout, although there was no bounty for bringing him in. But no news reached Lake-town about a thriving, secluded community to the south, peopled with folks from all walks of life, working for a common good. With his heir lost to him, the Master did what he could do to win back his heart—if not that of others—and implemented social systems into the city, and the people's lives were improved for it, just as Fili had predicted.

Even after he remarried and another heir was born to him, The Master never took down Kili's portrait. 

"This is the man responsible for turning the city around," he often told visitors to the manor. "And now, he has moved on."

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, friends, for coming along on this journey with us. We hope you liked the way everything played out.
> 
> Keep an eye out after the Easter holiday for the first installment of our new Aidean adventure, in which our main characters are part of the London theater community and Richard has a deep, dark secret.


End file.
